


Barduil Prompt Collection

by Constantine_You_Owe_Me



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Barduil - Freeform, Blind!Thranduil, Characters being dumbasses, Confessions, Depression, Elbarduil, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hidden Feelings, Humour, M/M, Middle Earth, Mild Blood, Modern AU, Polyamory, Sex Games, Tattoos, Thranduil - Freeform, Transgender Characters, Trapped In A Closet, bard the bowman - Freeform, elrond - Freeform, hurt comfort, injuries, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2019-09-13 14:23:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 59,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Constantine_You_Owe_Me/pseuds/Constantine_You_Owe_Me
Summary: This is where you can find a selection of the Barduil prompts I have accepted over on my tumblr blog. Many different moments between Thranduil and Bard with cameos from some of our other favourites from The Hobbit.Enjoy!





	1. In The Closet

**Author's Note:**

> You are welcome to head over to my blog and request a Barduil Prompt. 
> 
> My blog is: fromeroicawithlove (You will know it is me, Thranduil is my profile picture)
> 
> I will pretty much accept anything within reason.

**Elrond locks Bard and Thranduil in a closet together and won't let them out until they confess their feelings.**

 

In The Closet

 

 

Bard heard Thranduil huff for the fourth time in a case of minutes.

Both men were trapped, and both men were not to leave until Elrond said so, and the only thing he would accept from them was a confession.

Yes.

A confession.

What kind of confession? Oh, nothing so very embarrassing- but really it was because Elrond seemed to think there was something between Bard and Thranduil and was insistent that they ‘sort this out between themselves in a private location’.

The private location was a closest in Elrond’s house.

They were surrounded by long coats and Bard was sure he was sat on a pair of boots that cost more than everything he owned in his apartment, meanwhile Thranduil was still huffing and trying in vain to shove a holder of ornate umbrellas from off his lap.

“If I didn’t have a full time job and student debt from 20 years ago I’d swear we were teenagers being mocked at a party.” Bard mumbled his voice muffled as he tried to shove the coats that hung between himself and the blond.

He couldn’t see him until Thranduil opened his phone and the blue light illuminated the closet and cast his face with an eerie glow- ‘Beautiful.’ Bard thought before casting that aside to shove in to the repression part of his brain later.

“Elrond has the energy of a teenager and the clearly the spite of one…” Thranduil trailed off and looked up at Bard, he looked flustered and extremely miserable to be cooped up in the cramped space, and the brunet wondered if he was upset that he was stuck with him and not Thorin.

It was a mistake but he voiced his opinion and he was greeted with a dry laugh laced with derision from Thranduil when the sarcastic laugh faded he threw a scowl in Bard’s direction before he spoke.

“It was of my opinion that you were the one that wished to have him here, you both seem to be awfully friendly with one another.” The bitterness in his tone of voice threw Bard off, he wanted to pick back up on that later but for now he knew this was the time to throw out a few facts to smooth over the prickliness that the blond had displayed so easily.

“We’re friends because we work together at the school, and, for your information, he…” Bard stopped this wasn’t his secret to tell but at the expression on Thranduil’s face now he knew he had to continue even if it was just so see his closet mate relax the cold look he had given moments before. “…Urgh, if I tell you this you mustn’t say a word, Thorin will know it was me that told you and I am sure he’d beat the colour out of my hair.” He was gifted with an enthusiastic nod but no words, almost as if trying to convince Bard his lips were sealed as long as he got to hear what was going on behind closed doors.

While Bard was a school teacher, Thranduil was a governor and outranked him by miles, he was still preferred over the blond at the school, even the headmaster had tried to palm off his job to Bard one too many times. In his words he was ‘Just so good at dealing with the dragon.’ The dragon being Governor Oropherion.

Thranduil.

The one locked in the closet with him.

The one Elrond, the headmaster of the school, was so sure Bard had a crush on.

A crush like some kind of teenager.

He did not have a crush. Though it would be ridiculous to deny that he did find Thranduil very attractive but in his defence, who didn’t?!

“I swear, Bowman, if you are drawing this out because you have no dirt on him I will personally see that you are on yard duty for the next 2 years.” Thranduil threatened, but now he was close, much closer than before. Bard hadn’t noticed him shuffling closer and now he could feel his breath on his cheek.

The glow of the phone seemed distant now, the blond had left it behind as though it had been forgotten in his haste to move, but Bard did not mention it instead he took a deep breath to steady his now thumping heart.

It was really hot in the closet.

Did it have it’s own thermostat?

“R- right. So, we’re just friends and I know that because, one, I am not attracted to him at all, I don’t date other teachers, and two, he currently has a ‘thing’ with another staff member.” Thranduil near crowed with delight, he moved from his kneeling position and wedged himself by a box of- god knows what- and Bard, their sides pressing against one another from shoulder to knee.

Bard took a quick inhale.

Not a crush, Thranduil was just really fucking, ridiculously attractive, any man – even a straight man could see that, you only needed eyes…

‘Straight, pah!’ His own mind betrayed him and he lurched away from the blond suddenly- this closet idea at best was silly but now he was having to face up to things he didn’t want to think about, and he had to do it in the dark with the person that made him think and feel things he didn’t want to deal with.

At least… not right at this very moment.

As a reasonable adult Bard knew that eventually he would need to face up to the fact he was at least bisexual, but the thought of even considering uttering the words aloud made his stomach twist into knots and he groaned, the back of his head meeting with the closet wall with a dull thud.

Thranduil had been quiet since Bard had jerked away from him, his eyes were trained on Bard’s face which he likely could barely make out with the now dimmed light of his phone, he didn’t move to grab it but after a long silence he spoke.

“I though this whole closet idea was ridiculous – from the second the door closed I have been thinking of ways to escape, to convince Elrond that this was a silly caper and that we as two grown men could have any sort of conversation at a table in a well lit room, perhaps even over coffee,” Thranduil’s voice was low as if conscious that someone else might be listening as he spoke. “Now I see that it might take a dark closet full of coats for us to be open and honest with one another and ourselves.” Thranduil shuffled closer, albeit awkwardly, and Bard this time did not move away… mainly because there was no place for him to go.

Bard knew where this was going and he felt as though he’d backed himself into a corner physically and otherwise opening this can of worms.

“I thought perhaps it would not come to this, being locked away like teenagers, but if this is what it takes for my bravado to make an appearance so be it. We must take our chances and grip them with both hands before our hearts betray us with timidity- we are weak things, Bard, humans… our emotions control us forcing us into actions we would otherwise find abhorrent, embarrassing, upsetting… and then there are times they uplift us and give us courage.” With that Thranduil leaned in and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to Bard’s lips.

When he pulled back his expression was not that of a man victorious or even bolstered by that courage he had seconds ago spoken of. No this was a look of apprehension teetering on the precipice of regret, and Bard found himself hoping that Thranduil did not take the dive into a the remorseful thought that his actions were too bold.

Granted, they had been so very bold- Oh! But Bard could not deny that the shuddering thrill that bolted through his entire being had been a sensation he had not expected- how exhilarating it had felt to live so carelessly in the moment for those scant few seconds.

“This… uh this was not what I was expecting at all,” Bard began breathlessly, the room was dark now and he couldn’t see Thranduil and wouldn’t even if he was two inches from his face. “I had no idea how you felt about me and, if I am being blunt about this, I don’t think I’m into men.” A mortified groan cut Bard’s sentence short and he felt the warm body of Thranduil flop back as though he had fallen on to his back with sheer embarrassment but what greeted him, and so very suddenly, was the blinding light of Thranduil’s phone torch right in his face.

“You don’t have to be _into men_ to appreciate the human body, to adore the human form, to feel things that excite and arouse, Bard. You are an educated man, perhaps you are mainly interested in women, and that is fine but I felt you shiver when I kissed you.

Tell me you don’t want to try it again and I promise with everything that I am this will not happen again.”

The light was still shining in his face but with his eyes adjusting quickly he managed to make out Thranduil’s determined face behind the phone, he was beautiful and the blond was right, infuriatingly so… but this was fast and he had no shame in admitting it was too much too fast for him.

“I need time, Thranduil. There’s something in me ingrained after years of repressing whatever it is I am repressing telling me that what I want is not… right.”

Light flooded the entire closet as the doors were flung open and Elrond stood looking panic stricken at the two of them near white as a sheet. Thranduil was yanked to his feet and ushered away by someone Bard had never seen before, meanwhile, Elrond sank down so they were eye level and he apologised profusely.

Bard gathered from the nature of the apologies that tumbled from his friend’s mouth that he had been listening in to their conversation and decided to abort mission through guilt. He tried to console the headmaster and explained that no harm was done, and he was at least pleased he could be this open and honest with himself and Thranduil.

“Maybe it was good for me to be stuck there, else I really don’t think I’d have had that conversation with myself or anyone else for that matter, but maybe let’s not try this with anyone else, yeah?” Bard offered an easy laugh before he pat Elrond on the back and wandered off.

It was probably best he went home.

As he was pulling on his coat in the hallway a shadow loomed over him and he turned only to be greeted by Thranduil, he was nursing a glass of wine looking quite shell shocked, as though being dragged from the closet had brought back odd memories for him.

“My offer still stands, just tell me you don’t want to try this… us, again and I will drop the subject completely.” Thranduil’s ice blue gaze was firmly on his drink as he spoke, his voice smaller than it had been in the cramped space they’d been in before.

Maybe they were both scared of the same things but in different ways.

“I want to know if there can be an us, but I need it to go at my own pace for a little while. Let me dip my toe into the pond first, then once I am sure I won’t drown myself I will fully accept everything that I am and dive right in.

You have to be there to hold my hand, though, I’m afraid. You have to be my rock and my learning curve all at once. If you do that for me I will be as brave as I can be for you and I won’t hide my feelings in any way, no matter what they are, from you.”

Thranduil looked up from his glass and gave a very relieved smile, nodding in agreement to Bard’s terms.

“I agree and I look forward to working with you on this.”

Bard shook his head all the while an amused smile spread over his face, he zipped up his coat and bid Thranduil a goodnight, asking him to pass on a message to Elrond explaining the hour was late and he had to get back for work in the morning.

As he left he gave Thranduil one last look, his heart fluttered and he wondered if this journey was going to be as hard as he initially considered.

Perhaps not.


	2. In To The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Thranduil loves nature, and nature loves him. Animals flock to him, you will even see trees move to greet the elvenking, whispering things to him that no man can hear. Forests practically glow in joy at having the elven king visit, soon he will have birds, rabbits, foxes and deer gather around him as he elegantly sits on the forest floor, and the trees sing. Bard and the bardlings watch in awe as the ice king transforms right before their eye into the grand ruler of Greenwood the Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are welcome to head over to my blog and request a Barduil Prompt.
> 
> My blog is: fromeroicawithlove (You will know it is me, Thranduil is my profile picture)
> 
> I will pretty much accept anything within reason.

~~~~ In To The Woods

 

 

 

 

The elven king could feel it.

They were close, he could smell the change in the air, the song that gently guided his heart toward home.

The forest was just before them. 

The call of the trees beckoned him closer, the scent of wild flowers perfumed the air and without thinking Thranduil broke from the group he walked with and strode toward the tree line, quickly vanishing without a word to Bard and the children. 

Bard made to move toward the tree line also, his stammering heart urging him to follow but a hand pulled him to a stop, as he came to a halt so did the children.

“Lord Thranduil will not require assistance to find his way through the trees, do not break your leisurely pace for his sake, you will find he is quite safe when we come upon him again shortly.” An elven aide to the king smiled kindly as he spoke, they were kind to him and Bard was not entirely sure why.

Surely he was a nuisance to them and their king?

“Da, we’re going to find Thranduil.” Tilda tugged on his sleeve, before Bard could actually form any words all three children ran full pelt toward the forest yelling and laughing as they played chased past the might pines that lined the entrance to the woodland. 

“If I had any say in anything they do, that would be grand.” Bard joked he laughed long with the royal aide and they chatted idly until they too crossed into the forest.

They walked for sometime merely listening to the sound of the birds singing high above them in the forest canopy, songs of joy and freedom that Bard had not heard himself for too long. 

Laughter and excited chatter brought Bard back to the walk and as they broke into a clearing he found his children making flower crowns, Bain was the model for the majority of them but he accepted the role in good fun.

“Ada-Uh… Thranduil is waiting for you.” Bard chose to ignore the fact his children were calling an elven king their father… he had to ignore it because that meant they recognised something between them that had not been spoken on between himself and Thranduil. 

Across from the children, Thranduil was sat, a roe deer fawn lay with it’s head rested on Thranduil’s lap as it slept comfortably while the elven king busied himself fusing a racoon that tugged at his outer robe as though trying to take it.

“Those tiny hands shall not have that which it seeks.” His voice joyful, the sound of a true laugh rang out across the clearing and all that stood with the bowman stopped to watch the scene. 

A light breeze swayed through the trees, lavender coloured petals from spring blossoms fell from the trees around them landing in the blond’s hair- if a heart could a stop and a man yet remain alive… this was Bard. 

Any stern expression Bard had seen upon Thranduil’s face was erased from memory and all he would remember going forward from today was the calm and beautiful face of an elf completely at peace with his surroundings.


	3. Please Don't Drive Me Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard discovers that thranduil is blind.
> 
> This is short one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts are still being taken. You are welcome to request something over on my tumblr:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> :)

Please Don't Drive Me Blind

 

 

 

It wasn't the way he walked.

 

Thranduil always moved with such purpose. 

 

His strong strides taking him down his chosen path with ease. 

 

It was not the way he gestured to others. 

 

Very rarely would you see the king wave his hands in regards to pointing out another. 

 

It was not in the way of a royal to behave in such a way. 

 

It was the way he looked at Bard. The way his eyes seemed far away when they spoke. Though, those piercing eyes were set on the king of Dale they did not see him. 

 

There was life and light reflected but no feeling. 

 

He gave no reaction as Bard stepped into the Great hall to greet the Elven king, no reaction when he had appeared dressed as a king should be. 

 

He shared nothing because he could see naught but flickering shapes passing over light like moths flickering around a flame. 

 

The Elven king was blind.


	4. Centuries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bardlings also realise Thranduil is blind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> :)

Centuries

 

 

Tilda and Sigrid notice first. 

  
They speak as soon as they enter the room to alert the elven king of their presence, they continue to chatter until they take their seats, all the while allowing the noise they make it known where they are in the large room. Tilda brought it up with Sigrid after dinner one night as they were escorted to their rooms by silent guards.

  
"King Thrandwil doesn't like us, Siggie."

  
"Why do you think that?" Her older sister asks,  a look of curiosity as she sits on the side of the bed unpinning her hair from the intricate style it had been put up in. 

  
Appearances meant something now they were royalty. 

 

"When he came in he didn't look at us or anything. He just walked straight ahead..." Perhaps it was an odd thing for a child to notice but the children were observers of all. Passing the time with nothing to do while living on the lake made them very aware of their surroundings. 

 

"He bowed when we greeted him and he turned to us- ooohhh...". Sigrid trailed off and sighed, it seemed so obvious to her now, a shiver ran down her spine. A man so powerful, and so great... She'd seen him ferocious on the battlefield and poised before great enemies in a sparring match of whit... But he could not see them. "Til... Why do you suppose he doesn't look until we speak?" 

  
The little girl shrugged and played with her hair a moment mimicking her sister as she removed the ribbons and pearls from her hair. 

 

"Maybe he did notice us at first?" 

  
"Why is that?" There was a long pause before Tilda's eyes widen. 

  
"He can't see us!" 

  
Bain realised not long after, he saw the far away look in the elf's eyes... A great respect built inside the boy, this creature was like a God... A skilled swordsman and ruler. After that the children would make any excuse to see the king when he visited for matters of trade, military, crops.

 

In the end the children would end up sitting with Thranduil and Bard while they discussed random matters. The day all was revealed was one such day. 

The bardlings sat quietly in on a meeting rapt attention on the blond as he spoke. 

 

Bard was scanning a document produced by one of the eleven king's aides, all seemed in order and he slid the paper towards the king- the children held their breath as Bard spoke. 

 

"I've made some amends. Small things I am sure you agree on. If you could take a quick look." It came out before Bard could stop himself and he apologized right away. 

 

At that the king's intense gaze snapped to the direction Bard had spoken and he frowned. 

 

"Why would you apologise for something so mundane as returning a document?" His words measured as he spoke, Bard looked hesitantly at his children who looked panic stricken at the confrontational tone barely concealed in Thranduil's voice. 

 

There was a pause, the room was silent for what seemed an eternity. Thranduil's eyes seemed focused somehow and the icy blue of his irises seemed to freeze Bard to the spot. 

 

Finally, the king of Dale found his courage and uttered the words that, his children thought, would surely sour relations with Mirkwood. 

 

"Why would I hand you a document you cannot see to read?" Immediately Bain jumped to his feet and rushed to the tableside hands gripping the edge of the highly polished wood. 

 

"My Lord Thranduil. You cannot see but you're so skilled with a sword. I saw you stab an orc right through the heart and you couldn't even... You.. couldn't... see it!!!" His words rushed out tumbling over his lips as he tried not to trip over his own words as pure adoration coloured each sentence. 

 

The girls followed suit exalting him until Bard hushed them and they settled down words dying out waiting for the blond to speak. 

 

"Such excitement you feel for me, but one does not need use of their eyes to see. You can feel the air around you change and my hearing has always been stellar. Though, I admit, none have ever been so impressed by me as your children, dear Bard." The warmth in Thranduil's voice relaxed the other, the tense situation had passed and now the elven king was smirking. 

 

Bard ushered the children out to wash up for dinner. Their chattering still heard as they walked down the hall. They were boisterous but loving and it seemed this had upset the blond in the slightest. 

 

Once the door had closed Thranduil sat back in his seat to relax somewhat, and in a casual tone he said, "One does not need the use of eyes to hear the breath catch in your throat when I stand just an inch too close to you, Bowman."


	5. Emperor's New Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard and the bardlings find ways to help Thranduil without it being obvious to others that he can't see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> :)

Emperor's New Clothes

 

 

The forging of a kingdom from rubble was tiresome and truly required more work than anyone could ever imagine possible. 

 

Bard was worked to the bone, falling into bed each night asleep before his head had settled on his pillow, only to be roused after what felt like minutes later to start a new day. 

 

Hardly fair that this title of king had been thrust upon him just because he had slain a damn dragon. Surely he should have been offered a quiet life after this, far away from prying eyes, some secluded spot in the woods near a stream where he could hunt and fish and keep to himself. 

 

The bowman had voiced this once but Sigrid had said that was the life of a hermit, and unacceptable because none of them wanted to live in the woods with him. 

 

Now his life was filled with endless meetings with leaders from far and wide, raising funds with their help to rebuild Dale to be the jewel is had once been- and with these meetings came Thranduil. 

 

For a spell Thranduil had given his time to Bard, he was a tutor in all things royal, the way he spoke, the way he held himself, and of course, the way he dressed had to be addressed. 

 

As soon as the children knew Thranduil would be with them they ensure the walkways were cleared, one of the children at his side as he moved from room to room. 

 

Their sweet and excited voices keeping his footsteps true as they headed toward the destination together. 

 

A system had been implemented.

 

Bard and the bardlings would greet Thranduil as soon as he entered a room, it was seen as manners to everyone else besides them. 

 

Tilda was allowed to hold the elven king’s hand when moving from room to room, Sigrid would link her arm through his to give him a ever so light tug in the right direction, and Bain would surreptitiously tap Thranduil’s forearm to move to the right or the back of his hand for left.  

 

Their conversations often animated as Bain questioned the elf on fighting techniques and of battles he had fought in, so any accidental knocks or taps could be passed off as nothing but excited chattering and gesturing. 

 

Still there were times Thranduil would find his own way from room to room, sections of Bard’s home were now mapped out in his mind and finding Bard’s rooms, especially the study, was easy for the blond. 

 

Many a time Thranduil stride into Bard’s study with purpose grabbing the shirt the brunet wore and scowling at the texture mumbling in Sindarin at the shoddy stitching and materials used to make the garment. 

 

“My aides were correct, you still have the dress sense of a peasant.” 

 

“As opposed to your dress sense?” Bard countered, but he set his pen down and stretched, he had to agree with Thranduil... though he wouldn’t say it out loud, he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction yet. 

 

His clothes did leave a lot to be desired, but there wasn’t any point in dressing the way a king should, not when there were no guests of note... he could dressed nicely for Thranduil but he knew the blond quite enjoyed moaning about the shabby outfits he wore. 

 

Even if it was by touch alone, which was quite alright with Bard. 

 

At Bard’s counter, Thranduil merely shrugged, he vaguely remembered the clothes he wore before losing his sight, and assumed they remained the same, no one had said anything to confirm otherwise.

 

“Your aides said I have bad dress sense?” Bard believed this rather rude but Thranduil could only smirk smugly as he affectionately ran a hand over Bard’s shoulder, pausing to give it a consolatory squeeze. 

  
“It can easily be remedied. Remove your clothes.”     



	6. A Song To Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Bard and Thranduil fully expected for Bard to die first our of the both of then- they spoke of it when they started their relationship. It was a given. But no one was expecting for the elvenking to die first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

A Song To Say Goodbye 

 

 

It had only meant to be a brief skirmish. Both Kings out in all their glory stood back to back on the battlefield.

 

Armour glinting in the weak winter sun as the battle raged around them.

 

Proud warriors cutting down their enemies with ease, all was moving smoothly, the battle would end soon enough and both could return home to peace once again.

 

In a split second all had changed more enemies poured onto the battlefield.

 

War cries reaching the Heavens. ...and suddenly it was silent.

 

Bard's world ended before it had been given a chance to fully start.

 

He felt someone fall heavy against his back, blond hair spilling over his shoulder.

 

Bard turned the world seemingly in slow motion now and colours smudged together as he whirled round to assist Thranduil.

 

The sheer amount of red staining the elf was alarming.

 

A thick black iron arrow pierced the man's heart and blood still flowed freely over the shining silver armour.

 

"No..." It came out in a shuddering breath before he stop it, Bard's knees buckled and he let himself sink to the ground, Thranduil's body against his the Bowman's arms right around him gently moving him to a comfortable position.

 

"Wait a moment. I'll fetch a healer." The elf frowned at the words and he reached up to touch to Bard's face.

 

"Do not leave me... Do not leave me in my last moments for such a futile thought."

 

"This can't be the end. This can't be our last moment together." His tears splashed over the red stained armour and his trembling hands moved to unfasten the bulk of it so that the elf could at least have a moment of comfort.

 

"Is this not better, to have this moment to have a glorious death- it is better this way,"

 

Thranduil's breath rattled weakly as he spoke, Bard tried to shush him but the blond gave a half hearted scowl, a shaking and pale hand searched the dirt for the other's and Bard grabbed it immediately squeezing it.

 

Thranduil was impossibly pale now. "It is better this way, better that I no longer have the worry of living without you. I am a selfish man, I always have been and in my dying moments you shall allow me to be one last time." Bard could barely see him through unshed tears.

 

He lifted a muddy hand to his eyes scrubbing in vain trying to ease his breathing.

 

"Stupid... Stupid... It should never have been this way. What will I do now without you?"

 

"You will be great, as it was always predicted." Thranduil's words were filled with conviction, his blue eyes shone for a moment before the light died and that was it... He was gone.

 

Bard's world had ended before it had even had a chance to begin.

 

"I love you..." The words barely came out but not soon enough.


	7. I Don't Feel Like Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most of the elves, especially those in Thranduil's Kingdom, know of his blindness. But the dwarves, man and halflings don't. So Bard tries not to be to obviously of his signals to Thran or his protectiveness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

 

I Don't Feel Like Dancing

 

There was a ball to be held. 

 

The term "ball" was used loosely here, it was a gathering of Dwarves, Man, Halflings and Elves... Drinks were served and music played. 

 

This was a gesture of goodwill to all those that fought against the orcs on that fateful day. 

 

Bard gripped a tankard of mead and tried to heave his thoughts in another direction- he had been tense all night ensuring Thranduil did not encounter too many rowdy men or dwarves. 

 

His drink not once replenished and the elf at his side sighed clicking his tongue at the king of Dale. 

 

"How are you supposed to enjoy yourself when you sit so close to me to the point of possessiveness?" Bard couldn't deny that he had heard the hint of pride in Thranduil's voice, it would do him good to move about and mingle but... What of the elven king? 

 

With a growl at his own behaviour Bard stood up, he had to let go of this idea that Thranduil was helpless. How long had he been without his sight, and yet had fought with such skill in many a battle. Coming home unscathed as though the skirmishes been naught but a summer dance? 

 

A hand pet his forearm before he walked off, a signal from the other that all would be well. Bard was soon swept up into conversation with Bilbo which took up his attention for a good while, when he turned to look at the head table Thranduil was missing. 

 

For a moment his heart skipped a beat, someone tugged his sleeve and as he turned he found himself face to face with the elf in question. "Sigrid has taken me to dance. Do try to enjoy yourself." There was silence between them and Thranduil frowned wondering for a moment if he had found the wrong person. 

 

A flash of panic crossed his features. Bard lifted his hand from his side and tapped Thranduil's forearm to let him know Sigrid was at his right hand side. 

 

"Fear not, this conversation is nowhere near as serious as you would be led to believe." Bilbo interjected, he gave Bard an amused look as Thranduil moved off toward the music with Sigrid. 

 

"Bard... Are you hiding something from the rest of us?" The halfling asked, he swayed lightly on his feet the elven wine seemingly a tad too strong for him and yet he continued to sip at the drink from his goblet without any signs of slowing. "Just... I saw you touch Lord Thranduil's arm. Are you two... You know?" There was the insinuation again, many had mentioned it light-heartedly in passing as though not wishing to embarrass the Bowman. 

 

"Ah.. no, no. We have become quite close since the battle but no romantic notions." Bard's stumbling response had Bilbo near crowing with joy and he toasted Bard silently, eyes crinkling as his smile spread. 

 

"A Perfect match I dare say!" Bard glanced back at Thranduil who was leading Sigrid in a slow dance, his robes swaying around them both the rest of the world seemed a dream that surrounded the dancers. 

 

"Yes... I would say so." At least his secret was still safe. At least the elf was safe. 

 

Now, if he could only keep the dwarves from finding out. That would be hard work... 


	8. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil can't see, but he doesn't need eyesight to know that what he feels for the Bowman is more then close friendship. He just wishes that said Bowman felt the same in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You an request prompts from my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

 

 

 

It took one misstep for Thranduil to find out about Bard's feelings for him. 

 

An unfamiliar layout and the wrong footing had the blond fall forward, it was only slight and had Bard not been there the only thing that may have happened would have been Thranduil stumbling back to balance. 

 

As it happens Bard is there to catch him. Thranduil grabs Bard by the wrist to steady himself, though he is fully against the king of Dale for a good half a minute before he manages to right himself and he is on his feet. 

 

For the short amount of time the elven king was held to Bard's chest he felt the unmistakable thrum of a frantic heart, his hand wrapped around a wrist with a pulse so quick for a moment Thranduil believed Bard's heart had stopped. 

 

A soft gasp escaping and he felt the brunet's hot breath against his ear. 

 

Was it fear Bard felt? 

 

No, surely not. They were close friends by this point, Thranduil enjoyed Bard's company and would assume if there was any issue it could be fixed with conversation. 

 

Not fear... Lust? No, nothing so base and so obvious. 

 

Did Bard... Did Bard love him? 

 

A thrill spiked down Thranduil's spine at the very thought that Bard could have feelings for him. 

 

"Are you alright, Thranduil?" Bard's words brought him to the present and he gave an uncertain nod and tried to get his bearings before trying to walk again. 

 

At the uncertainty from the elven king Bard took Thranduil's arm and linked it through his and slowly led the other down the steps towards the throne room. 

 

"My apologies for the unfamiliar layout, we have had the castle renovated since last you visited and it was an oversight on our part that you were not notified before you came." Bard's words were distant to Thranduil, he was not truly listening to the king as he tried to shake the feeling of Bard's frenzied pulse against his finger tips. 

 

With light in his heart Thranduil tightened his grip on Bard and did not let go. 

 

"I love you too."


	9. This Town Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves are getting suspicious on how the Dragonslayer is acting around the Elvenking.
> 
> //Au where Thorin and company survived and no one died and Thranduil is blind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts from my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

This Town Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us

 

 

At first seeing the elven king in Dale was accepted, he was occupying the lands until all knew any orcs were driven off at the glint of a blade in the weak winter sun. 

 

Bard had no army to speak of. The new king needed all the help he could get protecting his lands. 

 

But... when the armies left and the lord of the wood remained things were a little more suspicious. 

 

Thorin made no mention of it when he arrived in Dale for trade talks and Thranduil was sat at the Dragonslayer's side. 

 

He made no mention of the blond's presence when a great feast was prepared for Thorin and his company to celebrate their trade agreements. 

 

Even in the late evening when Thorin was wandering the halls looking for the rooms of his kin he did not question Thranduil's presence at Bard's side, not until... Bard's hand lightly touched Thranuil's- it seemed intimate and a sign. 

 

Of what Thorin did not know... he wished to follow them but elven hearing far outranked any man or dwarf and so he believed it best to leave them alone for now. 

 

They were hiding something but he could not figure out what it would be. ...Only that it was staring him in the face a plain as day. 

 

As much as the dwarf believed it was in his best interests to know what the great secret was, when he woke the next morning and went down for breakfast he found the elven presence was now gone.

 

Not a single elf was seen, no soldier, royal aide, healer... their ruler also glaringly absent and Bard sat at the head table looking troubled but still managing to remain cheery in conversation with those that surrounded him. 

 

With this in mind Thorin greeted the king with a nod before approaching the head table to question the king of the elven absence. 

 

When hearing the query Bard gave him a curious look before responding with laughter colouring his words. 

 

"Lord Thranduil is neither prisoner nor required to remain here. I had taken up too much of his time with my questions as it is. The elves have returned to the woodland realm- my rather quick tutorial in being a royal is now over... I was under the assumption you did not like our elven guests, surely you are not upset that they are now no longer in the vicinity?" Bard's tone was not mocking, but definitely playful and a grin spread at Thorin's disgust at the insinuation. 

 

Thorin did not question Thranduil's presence after that nor why he and Bard would subtly touch hands while they walked side by side down hallways. 

 

If he had asked outright the answer would have been given, but he was good at minding his own business when it all boiled down to it.    
  


Fin~


	10. Immortals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normal thing to humans, or even dwarves completely baffle elves. For example, both humans and dwarves do tattoos and piercings, elves do not, they can't stand the thought of doing something like that to their body. So Thranduil's reaction to seeing Bard's tattoo will be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

Immortals

 

It was not an intimate moment when Thranduil saw Bard's tattoo, they hadn't had the courage to admit anything was happening between them... 

 

No, the tattoo was revealed as Bard removed his shirt while arguing with the elf regarding his dress sense. 

 

"Are you mad, man?!" Bard had snapped, though amusement coloured his voice as Thranduil tugged at the old ragged material that covered the bowman. 

 

"I am not removing my shirt simply because it offends you. We don't all have tailors and seamstresses on call for new outfits... not everyone is as dramatic as you!" The dig at the elf's outfits made no effect and the blond continue to tug at the offending item. 

 

"If I take it off I am not putting anything else on." The dragonslayer had warned but, once again, this had no effect on Thranduil other than to have him relinquish his hold on the old beaten up cotton. Bard dragged the shirt over his head and tossed it aside, when Thranduil gasped he assumed it was from the scars he sported from the past, the Master's displeasure now a lasting memory on his skin. 

 

But when he arm was wrenched closer to the blond he frowned and glanced down at the concern on Thranduil's face as he inspected an old naval tattoo, it was just an anchor and a coil of rope curled around it, a sea bird flying high above it on an imaginary breeze... 

 

"I often forget I have that..." After a moment of silence from the elf Bard continued, "I know it's old but it isn't that bad, you're eyes are near on stalks staring at it-" Thranduil raised a hand to silence him before the same hand smoothed over the skin that held the ink. 

 

Bard held back a shiver, he couldn't lie that being touched by the elven king was an experience in itself but to have such a gentle touch as though he was hurt- it evoked another emotion that he was unable to name. 

 

"This... I know this practise." Thranduil's voice seemed unreadable at first and Bard made move to take back his arm but the blond refused to let go, his grip not painful but still firm. 

 

"You would mark your skin this way, does this still give you pain?" Bard's eyes widen as he realises that Thranduil is concerned for him and the ink that was now permanent residence on his arm. 

 

"Ah no- Thranduil it was something I wanted I was a sailor in my youth, it was short lived but I loved the sea and lived on the waves. This tattoo is a reminder of that part of my life." 

 

Upon hearing this Thranduil straightened up to his full height and gave the bargeman a curious look. It seemed he understood the reasoning but said nothing more on the matter. 

 

Later that night the king of Mirkwood penned a letter to his dear friend Elrond requesting further reading materials on tattoos. 

 

He simply had to know more about this bizarre practise. No matter how knowledgeable he was on the subject of body modification Thranduil would always enquire if Bard felt well and if the tattoo hurt. 

 

All in all he was rather endearing and Bard quite liked it.


	11. Shrike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans, dwarves and hobbits don't know just how precious children are to elves, since children are so rare for them, they are fucking protective of them. It is extremely rare for another species to see an elfling younger the 100. Somehow a baby elf ends up in the botfa maybe the orcs kidnapped one and planned on using it as leverage to get the elves to not attack. Yeah bad idea. So Bard not only gets the rare chance at seeing a baby elf, he also sees angry protective elves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

Shrike

 

His thoughts were scattered, there was things he had to do, had to say, and yet words were jumbled- nothing really made sense. 

 

Bard groaned as he tried to get his bearings on the battlefield, he’d been knocked down and taken a blow to the back of the head and focusing seemed to be the most complicated thing he had ever attempted in his life!

 

People were calling out to him from across the battlefield but it was no use he could not make himself move in their direction nor did he think he had the equilibrium to do so. Walking seemed a task he was unwilling to attempt and so for a long moment he stood dazed and confused while his boots sunk into the mud of a blood soaked field and his hands clenched and unclenched trying to ground himself. 

 

The world soon clanged into focus and with such suddenly clarity the bowman staggered back, the noise that had jarred him back in to the waking world and several parts of his body throbbed with pain as his mind started working on automatic again. 

 

The sound came again, and to his alarm, Bard realised it was the sound of a crying child. Turning quickly on his heel he surveyed the battlefield the bodies of the fallen lay still and silent, and Bard watched as men and dwarf alike picked a path through the scene of death. 

 

None had heard this cry it seemed, only he, and Bard was beginning to wonder if the blow to the head was more serious than he had first imagined.

 

Before he could fully register the sounds around him several elves flew past him on nimble feet quick words exchanged before they stopped abruptly not 5ft away. One of them knelt down and with a soft voice scooped up something from the floor. 

 

To his horror Bard realised it was a child. 

 

A child lost in the mire of blood and mud, surrounded by the dead and calling for comfort and protection. 

 

He could hear them sobbing properly now, a forlorn sound that tugged at his heartstrings- it made him want his own children, he knew they would be safe but still he could not stem the flow of fear that now washed over him at the thought that they too could be in danger. 

 

His eyes did not leave the scene of the elves surrounding the baby, his mind wandered idly wondering how the child had come to be there but stranger things had happened in battle and none stranger than this one… 

 

A dwarven scout neared the group and they were greeted with glares, sharp foreign words laced with a defensive tone. 

 

Protective…

 

Elves seemed so very dangerous as they bared their teeth, hands hovering near daggers at their belts ready to draw blood or end a life for the small creature held in their arms. 

 

Elven children were rare. 

 

Bard made no move to defend the dwarf, this was a cultural thing he truly knew very little about. What good would he do interfering in such a thing. 

 

A familiar voice pulled him from his silent musings. 

 

“A rare sight indeed, that an elf from my own realm would bring a child here- I can make no sense of it,” Thranduil intoned with a regret that sounded as though it wrecked his very soul as he spoke. “Though, I did not come for the child, I see it is in safe hands, and as curious as I am of the youngling, you are in need of a healer.” A hand gently turned him from the scene and he was tugged into walking by the blond.

 

As they moved toward the city Bard could not help but glance back at the group of elves still embracing the child and whispering soft words to it. 

 

Was this a boon from their Gods?

 

He would never know. 


	12. The Wind That Carries Me Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil fawning all over Bard The Dragon Slayer, thinking he's not worth of him and too ugly with his real face. But Bard first only thinks it's a joke: the great elvenking and warrior being so smitten by him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts from me via my tumblr:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> :)

The Wind That Carries Me Away

 

 

Tangled limbs. 

 

Sweat damp clothes. 

 

Quivering skin and a breath held in the throat of one Bowman as the elven king Thranduil pressed himself into him. 

 

Bodies in alignment, with gleaming eyes and glinting jewels. A constellation to be set against a velvety dark sky. 

 

"Dragonslayer. This name shall follow you wherever you shall roam for the rest of your days. An honour that can open any door and offer many an opportunity." Thranduil's voice was thick with adoration, amongst other things, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of Bard's neck down to his collar bones leaving a shudder to spike down his spine. 

 

"My Lord- ah, you have faced serpents of the north. Their fire greater than the sun it was told." At the stuttered words the blond stiffened and pulled away, the air between them icy now leaving Bard cold and confused. 

 

"Those creatures took a great many things from us. From myself... Bard, you think me a beauty to behold, do you not?" A blunt question, of course, also very unfair to have such a thing thrust upon a man unsuspecting... Bard felt himself go pink right up to his ears and he nodded, his tongue seemingly vanishing from behind his teeth. No words forthcoming and he cursed his sudden coy demeanour. 

 

"Any living man, woman, elf or dwarf could see that you are stunning, Thranduil. Why such a suddenly bold question?" The bowman wasn't sure he liked the direction this was going, he had a sour taste on his tongue, wine stagnating from earlier and the bile of anxiety rising up as he lost his tenuous grip on the situation at hand. 

 

"Ah, yes. My appearance has been noted as striking, stunning, ethereal... But as I said, dear Bowman, the great serpents of the North took a great deal from me," he paused a moment a hiss of pain as he slowly let the glamour fall away leaving only half his face intact. One white eye rolled useless in sync with the other to hang its gaze on the Bowman, the skin raw and red a magic so deep and cursed that the wound would not heal. Could never heal. 

 

Bard managed to stifle his gasp at the sight.

 

A perfect, still intact, brow was quirked as though awaiting words- denial of the wound, a synthetic sweetness dripping from sympathetic words that meant nothing to him. 

 

Silence followed a moment longer and Thranduil let the glamour reappear. 

 

Bard darted forward clumsily, the wine in his system slowing his reactions. His hands reaching as though to stop the elven king but as he reached out his fingers only brushed against now perfect skin as though the wound had been a trick. 

 

"Don't..." Bard's sentence trailed off and his hand dropped to his side, he tried to offer a lopsided smile but it likely came out as more of a grimace than anything that could be described as comforting. 

 

"I don't know what you see in me, I don't understand why you have, possibly, lain your affections within me..." 

 

"There is no doubt in my mind how I feel about you. You are a warrior, a hero and yet this was not which drew me to you. You are kind, you fought for all that day. Not for the rich or the influential but for everyone... I could do with emulating you." There was the hint of a smile and Bard shuffled closer bravely lifting his hand again his fingertips brushing the smooth skin. 

 

"It doesn't frighten me, it doesn't sicken me... You're a hero in your own right. But I may need a moment to let it sink in that you find me attractive and impressive."


	13. Cherry Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begetting days confuse Bard, while birthdays confuse Thranduil and Elrond. Elves are confused of why humans want to celebrate their birth. While humans are equally confused on why the elves want to celebrate their conception. Just all the confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can also request prompts on my Tumblr blog:
> 
> FromEroicaWithLove
> 
> :)

Cherry Wine 

 

 

“Wait… What?” Bard stopped what he was doing to look at Thranduil who stood holding out a scroll to him, his face dead serious after the words he had just uttered. 

 

“Are you saying you celebrate the day your parents… you know- ah.” The Bowman scratched his head as he tried to grasp for words in order to make this sound less illicit than it was. 

 

Thranduil gave the man a moment before he rolled his eyes and urged Bard to take the scroll, once both hands were free he wandered off and pulled a book from the myriad of shelves that near groaned under the weight of the sheer amount of books the elf owned. 

 

“I did not believe we would need to have this conversation, you are like an elfling.” 

 

“No, no, we do not need to have a conversation about this. I know exactly what you mean and what you said- I am just at a loss on how it makes sense. I mean… is it not a little bit odd that you know your parents did… the thing… remembered it and then remind their children of that time for, what would be, thousands of years?” This earned an amused grin from Thranduil and when he next spoke it was a feigned suffering. 

 

“Oh to have a confidant that cannot even say the word sex without meandering around it like a river for miles first.” As he opened the book his gave a sly side eyed glance to his companion who now took his turn to roll his eyes. 

 

“In any case, you must understand that children are so very sacred to elves. That is not to say that men do not cherish their offspring, however, it is far rarer to bear a child if you are an elf. 

 

So I suppose it would make sense for us to remember the exact moment such a gift was bestowed upon us.” He gave a wistful sigh as though his thoughts were now elsewhere and Bad thought, perhaps, Thranduil may have spoken of himself and his wife.

 

Legolas had not contacted his father in some time and he knew it tore the elf apart, though he would not admit this to anyone aloud. 

 

“So what about when they are born?”

 

“What about it?” The blond asked nonchalantly as he snapped the leather bound book closed but offered it to the bowman as though he expected him to read it. 

 

He would not. 

 

“We celebrate the day our children are born, is that not also a custom for you?”

 

“Not really.” 

 

“Well, it is important to us, the children mostly. Would you indulge my children on the day of their birth?” This still Thranduil from his wandering and he turned full to face Bard as though only realising he was actually stood in the room with him. 

 

“What exactly does a Birth Day entail?” 

 

Bard thought idly that this would be perfect opportunity for Tilda to come in and explain the true joy of the day but it was late and the children were in Dale and he was not. 

 

“They person celebrating their birthday would get gifts from family and close friends, there would be a feast and we do something nice, maybe a picnic, sailing on the lake… you know, nice things we can’t do usually because of work and school.” Bard busied himself with the scrolls on Thranduil’s desk, he opened one but it was just a trade agreement from a thousand years before he was born. 

 

Not all that interesting. 

 

“Gifts… we would be expected to bring a gift?” Thranduil’s voice was thoughtful, a hint of interest as he spoke and a beautiful smile played at his lips. “When is the next birthday?” 

 

“Ah, that would be mine next week. We don’t do anything for it, I am a bit too old to be celebrating turning another year older.” 

 

Thranduil outright laughed at this and he moved toward Bard, a hand rested on his shoulder and turned him so they were face to face again. 

 

“You are too old? Then what am I? Positively dust?” Bard didn’t answer and Thranduil laughed again. “We are celebrating and that is the end of this discussion.”

 

“Ah, yes sir.”

 

“Hmm, yes, more of that.” With that Thranduil wandered off again and Bard opened the book he had been offered. 

 

It wouldn’t hurt to know more about the elf’s life… 


	14. So Ahead Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard teaches blind Thranduil to shoot a bow for the first time. While the rest of the Bard/Thran/Elrond family watches in the background, shouting encouragement and just all around have fun family bonding time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request a prompt on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

So Ahead Of Me

 

 

The world was quiet.

 

Only the breeze in the treetops above him and the creak of his bow string to accompany him.

 

Bard enjoyed his time alone with a bow, taking him back to the way he used to be, who he was before becoming the ruler of Dale.

 

That was not to say he wished to return to that time. He only wish he had more moments like these, wherein the rhythm of his heart was the only thing louder than the world around him. The steady beat to hold him still to stay his hand and cease the shake from exhaustion.

 

The quiet ended abruptly when he heard the calls and whoops of his children as they piled into the clearing falling silent suddenly at the unnatural hush around them.

 

Their father, in a meditation of sorts, the bow poised perfectly and with a slight movement the arrow sailed through the air and hit it’s mark without a hitch.

 

Bard let his arms fall to his sides the bow now stashed away on his back along with the quiver of arrows, and now turning to the children he realises he has more than just their presence as his audience.

 

Thranduil stood, his hands on Brain’s shoulders his eyes setting their gaze in the distance as he listened to something or someone that the others could not hear.

 

Elrond stood at Sigrid’s side her whispering kept an amused smile upon his lips but his eyes were on Bard as she spoke.

 

After a moment Thranduil returned to the present and greeted Bard as he approached, hearing his boots crunch over twigs even over the din the children now made as they created their Da.

“I am told you have grace and skill with your bow and that the arrows sing through the air when you release them.

 

The birds and the trees are happy to have you here and are happy you respect their world by practising here with a target than on any living thing.” The elven lord’s voice rich with admiration as he spoke, the children were now off across the clearing to retrieve the arrow, arguing who got to keep it.

 

“Hunting is not sport for me. Hunting kept my family alive through harsh winters. I owe my life to the forest for those days, I would kill and make use of very part of that kill.

 

My stance on that will not change now I am a ruler and things seem to come to use more freely.” Thranduil only responds with a nod, he reaches out and for a moment Bard moves to take his hand but he stops as the Thranduil moves past him almost to touch the bow on his back.

 

“A hardy weapon you have, so loyal to you but can be offered to another, I believe. Kind.. even after the blood it has spilled.”

 

“Would you like to try?” Bard asked shucking the bow from his back and handing it to the elf, for a moment the blond is at a loss, his eyes, though they cannot see are able to convey many emotions still and they race through several before setting on a lonely sadness Bard has seen too often of late.

 

“I am afraid that I have not practised since losing my sight, I would be a poor show.” Though as he spoke his hands caressed the smooth wood with a gentle reverence of a man that held a deep respect for all weapons made from the wood of his forest.

 

“Trying harms no one but your ego, and I am sure it can take a small amount of bruising for practise sake.” Elrond quipped, and it brought a smile to Thranduil’s lips suddenly as though he had forgotten the other elven lord was there.

 

“You are far braver than this, come let’s give it a go. Let me guide you through it, once you’ve got the feel for it again you will surely regret not trying sooner.” The bowman’s voice was bright and eager, no hint of allowing Thranduil to argue over this, not this time.

 

He nodded his assent and they both moved to the centre of the clearing, Sigrid plucked the arrow, Bard had used earlier, from Bain’s hand and passed it back to her father.

 

“Let’s start with getting the arrow to fit the bow.” They spent several moments reacquainting Thranduil with the feel of a bow and notching it before he was finally ready to give it a shot.

 

The children were quiet, Elrond did not move an inch as though he too held his breath with the Bardlings.

 

Bard stood, his back pressed against Thranduil’s as he moved the elf’s hands to the right position and lifted his elbow so that the arrow did not catch his arm when released.

 

“Are you ready?” He whispered in the blond’s ear, he could heard Thranduil’s shaking breath but he nodded closing his eyes as though to steady himself. Allowing himself a moment of privacy almost.

 

“Then let go.”

 

With those words the arrow sailed through the air and hit the target with ease, it was not a centre hit but a hit all the same and Thranduil beamed at the sound of the arrow head piercing the canvas and wood target.

 

This was a great victory.

 

A one revisited often after that day.


	15. Regain Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is being rude at a meeting. Bard is worried that Thranduil would snap and kill Thorin, but Thran is calm as ice, and keeping his anger inside. Bard never thought kind, sweet caring-for-everyone- Elrond would snap. (Or!) Bard is the one that has to be held back by his elf husbands, being an angel and the devil on his shoulders.
> 
> (Both prompts were written and are on the same chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> :)

Regain Control

 

 

 

Bard gripped the arms of his chair as Thorin spoke, his words harsh and unworthy.

 

Still harping on about a bargain unfair to his people, that he was denied his birthright due to the greed of humans, and that he could not believe that after all this Bard could ally himself with a traitorous elf with no honour in him.

 

It was enough to rile the newly appointed King and his hands balled themselves into fists as he stood from his chair, fury clear in his eyes, where there once had been patience now lived a fire and by the Valar! Thorin would be burned.

 

Both Thranduil and Elrond had sat in on the meeting as guides to Bard, the King of Dale was so new to all of this and they were there to ensure he was not, as he put it, ‘fleeced by other rulers so he had naught left but the clothes he wore’.

 

Elrond was the first to act, a hand gently raised and left to rest on one of the balled fists, he gave the hand a squeeze as though trying to bring Bard back to his senses. The proverbial angel on his shoulder quiet and hopeful that he would not need words to convey his calm.

 

Thranduil, on the other hand, leaned back in his seat after pouring himself more wine, he raised the goblet to his lips a small smirk forming as he took a sip of the sweet and strong beverage.

 

“If you start a war, meleth, you have two armies at your back.You needn’t back down simply because Thorin assumes he is a worthy foe… which he is not.” The blond goaded, his eyes on the dwarf as he spoke, such a mocking tone he fully expected retaliation which he got in the form of the dwarf grabbing his own goblet and tossing out the contents in the elf’s direction.

 

Bard blocked the spray with ease and bared down menacingly using his height to his advantage, he did not wish to throw punches, he did not wish for this to end violently, he had only meant to warn the dwarf but then Thranduil decided to stick his oar in and ruin, what could have been, a peaceful talk.

 

It was likely trade agreements would not be struck.

 

“There is no need for such acts, Bard do not let him provoke you further, none of this is necessary. Meleth, please, let us end this before we end up as children and resort to name calling.” Elrond pleaded, he was much too tired to sit through this. Thorin was still in no mind to talk and Bard was now distracted by his own anger, which of course Thranduil had further baited from him to purposely irritate Bard’s guest.

 

“I ask that you take your leave, Lord Thorin. We are done here, should you wish to come to an agreement amicably and leave the past in the past you need only send a missive saying so.” Bard’s hands relaxed from their clenched pose and he turned away from Thorin who was now being ushered out by Bard’s guards, flanked by Thrandiul’s and Elrond’s for support.

 

Elrond smiled, pleased that his words had gotten through to Bard, the elf stood and offered Bard water to further cool his temper, meanwhile Bard pinned Thranduil with a unimpressed scowl.

 

“You,” He started, pointing at the blond who raised his gaze to his lover, smirk still playing on his lips, “Are in big trouble.”

 

“Oh, I am absolutely assured that I am, meleth.” The response clear of remorse came easily.

 

After that Thranduil and Elrond were not asked to sit in on meetings, and Bard found it easier to make decisions without the two of them intervening, as genuine as their help was… it was also a hindrance.

 

 

**ALTERNATE ENDING** :

Bard gripped the arms of his chair as Thorin spoke, his words harsh and unworthy.

 

Still harping on about a bargain unfair to his people, that he was denied his birthright due to the greed of humans, and that he could not believe that after all this Bard could ally himself with a traitorous elf with no honour in him.

 

It was enough to rile the newly appointed King and his hands balled themselves into fists as he stood from his chair, fury clear in his eyes, where there once had been patience now lived a fire and by the Valar! Thorin would be burned.

 

Both Thranduil and Elrond had sat in on the meeting as guides to Bard, the King of Dale was so new to all of this and they were there to ensure he was not, as he put it, ‘fleeced by other rulers so he had naught left but the clothes he wore’.

 

Before could utter even a single word, Elrond was on his feet glaring down at the dwarven king, such ire apparent in his usually placid demeanour.

 

“I ask that you take back those words, Lord Thorin, I ask politely that you take those words back and apologise immediately, I shall not sit idly by while you slander Lord Thranduil’s good name.

 

You are naught but a child still, you cling to these grievances as though any mere slight could wound you and yet you would gladly go to war against those that now work peacefully with you.

 

Any good ruler would understand that loss is great to elves, loss is painful for all- what good would it have done for Lord Thranduil to go to war?

 

We all have our reasons for the things we do, do not believe this was a slight at you, do you believe all insulting words were made to hurt you and only you?” Bard glanced to Thranduil who was only smiling as Elrond dressed down the dwarf- it was frustration more than anything, there was no need to bring up old issues like Thorin did and Elrond felt he had to seek out the words to reprimand the other.

 

“Meleth, please, you can see that this does not bother Thranduil, if it did he would be fighting his own battles. Do not rise to this, he knows what he is doing, don’t let him win.” Bard gently coaxed Elrond back in to his seat, when he turned back to the dwarf he seemed pensive, deep in thought as though the tirade had truly given him something to think about.

 

“Perhaps we leave this meeting to another day?”

 

“Aye, let us meet alone next time.”

 

With this in agreement Bard and Thorin went their separate ways.

 

Elrond went and had a lie down.


	16. Cliffs Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern elronbarduil. Bard is a cab driver, Thran is a the CEO of his own company, and Elrond is an ER doctor. Now Thran somehow gets injured at work but instead of calling an ambulance, he calls a cab because he doesn't want to make a fuss. Bard is the cab driver and is worried about Thran, so offers to help get him inside the hospital and stays with him. Elrond is the doctor attending Thran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one! 
> 
> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

Cliffs Edge

 

 

Honestly, Bard had not expected his first fare of the afternoon to be a man bleeding from the temple, a well dressed, suited and booted kind of high flying exec kind of man… He was really bleeding, and from the rear view mirror he could not quite see where the blood was coming from but it ran down the man’s face with ease and dripped onto the grey suit he wore steadily.

 

“Uh… I know you’re not ok but are you ok?” Bard asked turning round to look at his customer properly, the guy was beautiful, angel fallen from Heaven masquerading as a man, beautiful. 

 

Long straight blond hair, nearly white, piercing blue eyes and flawless skin, a jaw that could cut glass and all those other analogies that described the classic beauty of men.

 

Pale as milk though, either he had been bleeding for quite some time or he did NOT like the sight of blood, either way it was concerning. 

 

The blond looked startled when Bard spoke, as though he had expected the cab to be self driven rather than by a flesh and blood human with thoughts and feelings. He lifted his hand to touch the blood and it smeared over his fingers staining the pale skin easily, all the while nodding slowly as though this was common place and he bled all the time from the head. 

 

“So… Where do you need to go?” His whole body felt tense, this kind of felt like one of those scenes from a movie where he is infected by a virus and becomes a zombie because he just HAD to help the pretty one.

 

That’s how they get you, the zombies, they show up being pretty humans all the while the virus is working through them and suddenly you turn around to check on your passenger and BAM Zombie time and you’re dead. 

 

He reeeeally hoped this guy asked for a doctor or a ride to the hospital because, damn, he was losing blood like no tomorrow. 

 

Bard made the executive decision that he was taking the man to the hospital regardless and put the car in motion, not explaining his actions though he realised he was not asked any questions, or given any instructions… it was then Bard realised that the guy must have been in shock. 

 

Once at the hospital Bard parked up, threw some money in a parking meter and eased the silent, still bleeding, man from the car, he spoke softly as if to keep this blond stranger at ease, as though he was some kind of easily spooked horse. 

He looked like he owned horses, like 10 of them and had a son called Tarquin and they played croquet on the lawn of their massive mansion. 

 

Probably had house staff too. 

 

Bard realised that was unfair, just because he wore a nice suit didn’t mean anything, he had a nice suit too, it was reserved for funerals and weddings, he had one and only one and when he wore it people thought he was important too, and not a cab driver in a city where his face blurred together with thousands of other brunet men with beards…. 

 

Further problems arose when he tried to check the man in to see a doctor, he had no idea what his name was, or even some semblance of an address, he barely registered the street he had been on when the blond had climbed into the car. 

 

So far the only thing that had shown Bard the guy was aware of anything was when he nodded earlier, and he was sure that was just an automatic response to the question ‘Are you ok?’, because most people nod when asked that question. 

 

Apparently standing at the reception of a hospital was good luck because a doctor ran towards them yelling something that was probably a name, ah, yes it was a name.

 

“Thranduil, oh Gods, what happened to you?!” This doctor was handsome, did beautiful people just attract other beautiful people, was this a cult? 

 

While Bard stared at the two of them in bisexual, the brunet doctor that had jogged toward them turned to Bard for an explanation, and all Bard could do, and he did it so eloquently, was shrug. 

 

“He got into my cab just bleeding like crazy from the head, he hasn’t spoken a word so I thought I would just bring him here…” 

 

“You did the right thing, I will take things from here, thank you for your caring for him-” He was cut off as he tried to lead Thranduil off but the blond reached out and grabbed Bard by the wrist and would not move until he did. 

 

“Ah, it seems you are coming with us, even in shock he recognises a catch when he sees one.” Inappropriate time to flirt when his friend was just stood silently bleeding like some kind of silent haunted house actor… 

 

Were they friends?

 

Still, someone thought he was handsome, even though they both looked like Gods walking the earth amongst mere mortal men. Bard realised he had to take what he could get, even if it was a fleeting flirting opportunity from a doctor. 

 

Before he could speak Thranduil, weirdly nice name, tugged at Bard and pulled him closer to his side, he slung his arm over his shoulder before his legs gave way and both Bard and the handsome doctor moved to steady him. 

“Maybe he needs to sit down…?” Bard suggested and the doctor, who had the humility to look embarrassed, nodded and steered the weakening man toward a private room. 

 

Thranduil was put on a bed and the doctor, who finally introduced himself a Elrond Peredhel, saw to the wound, he explained that wound was not deep but were it was situated was causing the blood to flow easily, the skin on the scalp was thinner he said. 

 

Bard had no idea about any of this stuff so he just nodded.

 

“This man is not supposed to be working, this man is meant to be on bedrest.” Elrond quipped, the dig at his patient apparently brought him back to himself, somewhat, and Thranduil managed to roll his eyes, he looked to Bard and gave a soft smile. 

 

“Thank you.” He whispered, his voice so damned deep and velvety and amazing, oh man, Bard needed to sit down after two words. He pulled himself round long enough to drag a chair up to the bedside and sit by the blond. 

 

“I admit, you scared me back there in the taxi being all silent and bloody, I had visions of you trying to slit my throat or something.” It was a ridiculous thing to say and he regretted saying it instantly but the sound of Thranduil’s quiet laugh eased his insecurities for a moment. 

 

The blond winced as though laughing hurt him, and Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder to soothe him as he worked on cleaning the wound, some of Thranduil’s hair was now stained red from the blood, but he did not seem to care all that much, or he hadn’t realised. 

 

“I owe you so much, I could not speak and yet you brought me right where I need to be with who I need to be with.” Elrond and Thranduil shared a loving smile between them and Bard put the pieces together. 

 

Husbands. Probably. 

 

Well, they had flirted with him so they seemed relaxed so maybe very long time husbands? 

 

Not that it mattered. 

 

“Also thought you might have been a zombie.” Bard admitted quietly, which had Thranduil laughing again, and Gods it went right to his centre. 

 

He suppressed a pleasant shudder, ignoring Elrond's knowing look. 

 

“A zombie only before his morning coffee,” The doctor started, he rested a hand on Thranduil's shoulder before he spoke again, “Did you just swoon?” 

 

This time Bard was the one to have the decency to blush and look away from the two.

 

"Ah, I thought so, he has that effect on everyone. Though so far you are the only one sensible enough to grab a chair and to respect that he may be in a relationship.    
  
It's alright, you can flirt with him.    
  
You can flirt with both of us."

Well, that was… interesting. So far Elrond had been quite vocal about his interest in Bard but Thranduil hadn’t said anything, and Bard was not sure it was alright for Elrond, even if he was married to the blond, to just offer the others affections so easily like that. 

 

While in thought the two took the opportunity to whisper between themselves, some sort of debate, Bard wasn’t actually listening.

 

Eventually he made the decision that it was time for him to go. He had to earn a wage and sitting around in a hospital was losing him rent money for the month. That and the two probably wanted alone time. 

 

“Now that I know you’re alright I should probably go. I still have a job to do and while I do not necessarily have a boss I still need to make sure I make enough that I don’t have to work too late tonight. 

 

It was great meeting you both even given the circumstances. 

 

I hope you manage to keep him on bed rest this time.” Bard looked to Elrond as he said the last part and he got to his feet ready to depart. 

 

“Thank you, again for bringing him here. I truly hope we meet again.” Elrond spoke with as much sincerity as he could muster without it sounding as though he was mocking Bard. 

 

With that they parted ways. 

 

It was a month after that Bard saw the two again. 

 

He had been playing a zombie apocalypse game while the car idled at the side of the road, there didn't seem to be much foot traffic where he had parked up so he took the chance to try and level up his mobile game. 

 

When the door opened behind his seat and someone slid in he paid them no mind, he was going to wait until they'd settled before he gave them any attention, that was until…

 

A pair of hands slid to his shoulders and squeezed almost pinching him. 

 

Then a rumbling voice in his ear spoke. 

 

“Still hoping for zombies, are we?” The tone amused and, dammit, the shiver that spiked down Bard's spine… the hairs on his arms stood on end and his heart beat leapt to a pace faster than he believed ever possible. 

 

“Thranduil, leave him alone, he looks like he might have a heart attack.” Oh, yeah, it was definitely the dream duo he had absolutely NOT been thinking about since they first met… Elrond Peredhel and his husband Thranduil. 

 

Two fantastically beautiful men that had taken a shine to Bard as though he wasn’t some grimy cab driver with untamed curls and  bags under his eyes that could fill a baggage claim at Heathrow. 

 

Doing his best to calm himself before he looked round, he sighed inwardly when the blond let go of his shoulders to sit back in his seat, Bard took a cleansing breath as quietly as he could and turned to offer the couple a bright smile. 

 

“Well, hello, you two. Long time no see… so, where am I taking you tonight?” It was 6pm and the sun was sinking behind the high rise buildings around them- the night would come alive soon enough and Bard actually wanted to get home before any party-goers tried to hail him for a ride. 

 

“Well, we were just going to go home but maybe coffee first, we’d love it if you could join us?” Elrond slid an arm around Thranduil’s shoulders as he spoke and pulled him so they were right up against one another side by side, their shoulders right down to their feet touching down one side. 

 

“Uh… well, I was just going to go home after this fare…” Bard trailed off at the, frankly sorrowful, disappointed look he was given from both of them, so rather than argue he just nodded. “Alright, where would you like to go?” 

 

They ended up in a small coffee shop, it advertised that it was open all night long and so far it was fairly quiet, Bard suspected the usuals that haunted the place would show up at the wee hours of the morning, sporting smudged make-up, tousled hair from brief intimate encounters and being more than just hungover as they sipped hot coffee full of sugar and cream before they could even begin to think of heading home… 

 

It seemed like a trendy spot, Thranduil and Elrond stood out like peacocks against the vintage surroundings in their crisp fitted shirts and, what was probably, ridiculously expensive slacks and boots. 

 

Smart casual.

 

Yet they looked across as Bard as though hungry hyenas and he was dinner for the night. 

 

Hadn’t they just eaten? 

 

“You don’t have to look so scared of us, but… we did have a proposition for you if you would be so kind as to allow us a moment to explain?” Thranduil began, he picked up a drinks menu from off the table in front of him and perused it casually, his eyes flitting to Bard occasionally and he offered a very sultry smile. 

 

Bard felt nervous, like a bug near a venus fly trap but he was also a little hot under the collar, he didn’t image a look could ever have that effect on him but… well… there he was flushed.

 

The ye olde expression of ‘Mark me down as scared and horny…’. 

 

“I’ll cut to the chase, let you breathe a little afterwards. We like you Bard,” Elrond began, he waved away a waitress that approached with a genuine smile before turning back to Bard. “We are a couple but we were hoping your interest in us was not solely a fanciful day dream. Thranduil and I would like to take you out and, perhaps with time, you would accept us, even love us and let our duo become a trio?” There was a long pause after Elrond said his piece and so Thranduil and he ordered drinks, and after a moment coaxed an order out of Bard.

 

He felt as though a hurricane had rushed over him and he was left windswept and out of breath... Maybe a little battered- that was probably his heart slamming against his rib cage. 

 

Were they suggesting a three way relationship?

 

He had to admit, and admit it very quietly even in his own head, that he had thought about that would be like… they seemed fun and flirty, but what were they like behind closed doors? 

 

He didn’t feel threatened by them or actually afraid, and gods, he had seen the look of love they had shared between them back at the hospital.

 

Could that be him? 

 

“I want to get to know you both better.” The words blurted out, but his mouth and brain had not discussed this and yet there he was talking, all the while his brain is in disarray ‘We talked about this mouth, you have to run things by me first!’ but again his mouth ignored his brain and he spoke again. 

 

“I am interested in both of you, I want to try this.”

 

All hope was lost for his mouth and his brain logged out for the rest of the evening. 

 

With his acceptance of the couple, Elrond and Thranduil moved to sit next to him, one on each side, they wrapped their arms around him and welcomed him in to the fold with a tight embrace. 

“We shall show you a good time,  so much so that you could not imagine being without us, let us love you.” 

 

...and so, he did. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	17. Things I Can Do For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man has a holiday the revolves around love. And this is the first year Bard will be able to spend it with his two elves. There is just one thing, the elves never heard of this holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You an request prompts still on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :) 
> 
> Thanks!

Things I Can Do For You.

 

 

When Bard entered his study, with the intention of doing paperwork, he was greeted by both Thranduil and Elrond sat studying something brightly coloured, each of them held one in their hands, it was wrinkled and something was scrawled over the front.

“Hello, you two. What do you have there that is so fascinating?” Bard’s tone amused as he approached them, the items were offered up by both elves and Bard recognised the flimsy pink paper instantly.

Sweetheart cards.

Written lovingly by Tilda, of course.

So, this was a conversation he was going to have with the both of them right now, was it?

Sighing he pulled up a chair facing the both of them, their curious gazes seemed innocent and sweet to him, and when he opened his mouth to explain they went from curious to eager.

Elves loved to learn, and if it was human customs it seemed more a delight.

“Sweetheart cards, they get sent on a specific day of the year, this day, in fact,” The bowman began, he plucked the one Thranduil held from the blond’s hand and held it up. “So, Tilda loves you both very much and in the spirit of this day she sent you cards confirming what you already knew.”

“Why does this day have such significance to her and not yourself, is it just for children?” Elrond asked turning over the paper and rereading the message with a smile on his face. How sweet his joyous smile was, the fact a child acknowledged him and affirmed her affection for him.

“Well, I don’t really celebrate, I didn’t really have a loved one to share this day with until recently, I haven’t celebrated since my wife died, aside from sending them to the kids but they’re kids they enjoy making things and doing things for any occasion.” Bard explained quietly, he did not like the look he was receiving from both of his darling partners. They looked rather calculating and, somewhat, miffed.

“So…” Thranduil began, his voice smooth and his expression blank as he chose his words carefully, and Bard couldn’t help but feel as though he was on the chopping block for some reason, “You did not wish to celebrate this day with us?” 

Ah, there it was…

“That is not his intention at all, Meleth, and you know it.” Elrond interjected though he clutched his paper heart tightly to the point it creased a little, and the bowman wondered if Elrond was, perhaps, a little upset by the notion that Bard had withheld this information as he did not wish to celebrate with them. 

“I’m sorry, these things are not important, not really. Most people use the day as an excuse to get together short terms and get drunk…. That was never something I had enjoyed.

The day itself it meant to be for true love, no matter how fleeting it is, and If I am completely honest I forgot about it, I’ve been so busy.”

The subject was dropped for the rest of the afternoon and both elves excused themselves quietly leaving Bard to work alone, which he did not enjoy after having grown so used to them both being around him while he filled out forms and read over important documents.

When he found them in the evening he was presented with a card of their own, a red paper heart with flowing elven script and beautiful decoration and Bard knew they had enlisted the help of Tilda to make this for him.

“You’re not upset I didn’t explain this to you earlier?”

“Well, yes and no. Sigrid explained to us a little more than Tilda could about things the little one did not know. If you are willing we would like to enjoy the rest of the day with you celebrating.” Thranduil replied though his tone was suggestive and Elrond only smiled nodding in agreement, they had been devious enough to plan all this without him, he would have to accept whatever it is they wished to do without complaint.

Bard never complained when it came to the two.

Especially not that night.


	18. Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DO ME SOME BARD "WALKING IN ON" THRAN "SHOWERING" UNDER A WATERFALL IN THE FOREST. ADMIRING HIM AND HIS BEAUTY AND THRAN NOTICES. SUPER GAY PLS. YAAAAAS! - exact words of the prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

 

 

Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

 

The height of summer. 

 

Everything thirsted for water, the trees, the grass… sunbaked plants, animals heaved their sweat soaked bodies into the shade and remained there for the duration of the day until night fell, and they could move unimpeded by the harsh glowing orb in the sky. 

 

Thranduil had suffered too, as the sun set he stole away into the darkening forest alone, his feet taking him exactly where he needed to be.

 

A pool in the depths of the forest, found in a clearing nestled amongst the shadows of the tallest trees. 

 

The bright moon above bathing everything in a  pale silvery light, only the sound of the night birds and the babbling of the small waterfall that connected the stream to the pool could be heard. 

 

The lord of the forest wasted no time in divesting himself of his clothing, his heated skin ached and it longed for the cool waters that lay still and so tantalisingly near.

 

His heart raced as he sensed a presence nearby, so sudden it had been that Thranduil cursed himself mentally for allowing his mind to wander but the heat had left him feeling sluggish, his skin felt taut from the intensely dry air and his eyes heavy, but it did not halt him in his actions. With measured movements he removed the last item of clothing and set it with the rest. 

 

This presence, a stranger perhaps… he would not let it bother him, the spirits of the forest were oft mischievous but left well enough alone, meaning only to tease before going on their merry way again.

 

The branches of the trees reaching high above him swayed with a light breeze and the blond felt relief wash over him, this reprieve from the sun and his fierce gaze felt as though a blessing had been given from the Valar. 

 

For a moment Thranduil remained still listening to the sound of the forest around him, the life that slunk in and out of the darkness between the shafts of moonlight that penetrated the canopy above, always there, always vigilant.

Something was watching. A spirit?

 

No...

 

The sound of panting from a strange and ravenous thing… dangerous a creature that stalks with hunger that clenches at the stomach and the heart. 

 

A wolf walked among the trees, ah, something that wore the guise of a wolf, eyes hotter than the sun that had blazed so mercilessly down over the lands that day, movements far more erratic than that of a graceful creature such as a wolf, but just as hungry. 

 

He wondered idly how he must have looked, his pale skin glowing under the light of the moon, was he in danger of being devoured before the nights end? 

 

So vulnerable now without the shield of clothing to protect him, but rather than dwell on the beast, that may or may not be hounding him, Thranduil stepped into the cool water a sigh caught in his throat that came out a purr. 

 

Glorious. 

 

For a moment everything was quiet, the threat seemingly vanished from his surroundings. He leaned against the edge of the pool, his hair splaying over the grass as he let the cold seep in to his skin to his very bones. 

 

Never had he wished so much for the harshness of winter. 

 

Before he had time to think his head was yanked back and his eyes met with a gaze so heated he’d feared Smaug himself had risen from the dead. 

 

The hand that had tangled itself in Thranduil’s hair tugged again and the elf turned his face from those lust darkened eyes, his neck exposed and a shudder passed through him unbidden. 

 

The game had begun, Bard had found him, taken him by surprise and as such Thranduil was the pray to this hunter. He had no control over the nights events, only when the sun rose in the sky would he have any say in what was said and done. 

 

The man slipped into the water beside him, barely a sound made as the pool rippled around them, the night birds were still singing but the elven lord could scarcely hear them over the sound of his harsh breathing. 

 

“You started this game, and I shall end it. You nearly lost me, but I knew you'd be here- you wanted to be caught. 

 

I feel your heart racing, how it flutters and flies in your chest like a fragile creature caged against its will.” Bard voice was more a growl as he spoke, but oh the sound of barely concealed lust thrilled the elf, though no words would come his tongue let every word die as Bard leaned into kiss and nip at his still exposed neck. 

 

What were words when the man at his side could drag out moans that sounded like songs sent to the Heavens? 

 

The pleasant chill in Thranduil's bones was long gone, the shudder that came was not from the night air but from the absolutely delicious feeling of letting go of his power. 

 

To have this man, this man he so dearly adored and trusted, take that power from him with ease was a balm that soothed his stresses away. 

 

Leading a kingdom for thousands of years was hard and left him weary, but now after years alone he had found someone that he could lean on. 

 

Bard never judged Thranduil when he found him too tired for conversation after a long day of debates and paperwork. Bard never expected more time than Thranduil could give, and for this the elf was eternally grateful. 

 

The King of Dale was a support he never expected to have. A wholly new experience to have a man stand by him and hold him up if he truly needed it. 

 

“Thranduil, are you alright?” The blond was pulled from his thoughts by Bard's concerned voice and he felt a flush creep over his pale skin. 

 

He heard Bard sigh and watched as he moved back, he felt the hand tangled in his hair release its grip and he stepped back to give Thranduil space to stand up. 

 

He followed Bard as he moved away all the while offering him an apologetic look, reaching out he let his palm smooth over Bard’s cheek. 

 

Meleth, I apologise, my mind wandered,” Thranduil began, his tone conciliatory hoping his bowman did not hold any ire towards him, “It was not you, please do not think me capable of of being tired of you so easily.” At his words Bard gave him a stunned look and he surged forward claiming Thranduil’s lips with his own. 

 

When they parted again Bard spoke. 

 

“I admit in the past I worried and, perhaps, in the future I may also be, but right now do not fear what I think. All I know is that you look so lovely under the moonlight.” The Bowman’s mumbled- his lips now only inches from Thranduil’s loathing to be parted from the other even for a second. His deep brown eyes met with clear blue and a sigh escaped Thranduil’s throat.

 

Even in tense moments he could rely on Bard to lift him up for a spell, he worried at times he would live on a pedestal in Bard’s eyes but the bowman had taken him down a peg or two since they had been married. 

 

For that he would leave his heart in Bard’s hands without hesitation. 

 

“These wandering thoughts of mine, they almost always come to rest on you.” Thranduil spoke quietly, having the decency to look, somewhat, embarrassed by his admission. 

 

Bard quirked a brow, a sultry grin forming as he rest his forehead against the elf’s. 

 

“Oh?” The sound of pure lust that returned to Bard’s voice and how he sounded so suddenly wrecked, it sent a thrill to Thranduil’s very centre and he without further words he lifted his arms to Bard’s waist and pulled him so that they were pressed against one another again, though he would not deny that the fact Bard was still dressed seemed unfair to him. 

 

As though he had heard his thoughts, Bard pulled off his shirt and tossed it on to the banks of the stream where it landed with a wet slap against the grass, for a spell Thranduil merely watched as the other undressed. 

 

A small sigh escaping as he imagined what that body felt like against him, how it had felt the very first time and how it would feel that very night under the moonlight. 

 

The sighed earned another brow quirk.

 

“Care to share those thoughts of yours, don’t be so cruel as to keep all those naughty thoughts to yourself.” 

 

“I would much rather show you what I had in mind than tell you, haven’t I left you teetering on the edge of lust all night, should I not allow you to take control and take from me what you wish?” The game was back on and Bard relished the feeling of Thranduil relinquishing his power, the exhilarating feeling of having the most powerful man he had ever met at his mercy was slowly chipping at any resolve he had when it came to holding himself back. 

 

There were no more words between them, Bard dragged Thranduil to him lips at the elf’s neck, one hand pressed at his lower back to keep him close and the other between Thranduil’s legs.

 

The chilled water did not bother them, even as Bard roughly turned Thranduil so his back was to him, pushing him over the edge of the side of the pool, the water splashing up around them at the sudden quick movements. 

 

He was roughly bent over with one pale cheek against the grass, and Thranduil moaned as he raked his fingers through the dirt gripping at tufts of grass, this is the power Bard exuded that Thranduil so dearly begged to witness and now as he was in throes of passion he thanked the stars that his wish was granted. 

The sun was rising, the gold and orange glow that streaked over the sky gave promise of another searing day- the birds already up and singing as loud as they could from their still shaded roosts. 

 

Bard was still sleeping, but Thranduil had been awake for an hour already watching the forest wake up, listening to the songs of the trees, the dawn chorus ushering in a brand new day… though at every moment his mind wandered he found his gaze moving back to his husband. 

 

He slept soundly in the grass, his clothes slung over a low branch to dry before they returned home. Thranduil had not yet dressed, he relished in the feeling of the cool wind against his kiss bruised skin- though he was weary he was ready for the day. 

 

Any tension he had held on to had been washed away with the nights events and while he knew this day would be long, the heat making it nigh unbearable he knew he would remain in good spirits. 

 

Now that he and Bard were no longer parted, their family would reunite and all would be well in his world once again. 

 

For now he would allow the day to start without him, for now he would lie in the grass at his husband’s side until responsibility called out to him with the voice of his royal aides. 

 

Then and only then would he move to consider answering their call. 

 


	19. Enjoy The Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard never thought that much of Thranduil's top surgery scars, he was told Thran had surgery, and they never bothered him, so that was it. Until Bard finally asked Thran how he got the scars. Thran just gives Bard a look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> :)

 

Enjoy The Silence

**  
  
**Scars. **  
**

Everyone had them.

All different kinds, from all sorts of injuries- embarrassing or serious.

Life gave you scars, some people were proud of them and others sought to hide them, overall most of the time they weren’t anyone else’s business but your own.

Well… all of the time.

People can share stories of their scars with you but only if they want that, you cannot demand the story of another person’s body, nor will they ever be obligated to tell you anything about the world that lives on their skin or under it.

Thranduil had scars.

Scars on his chest, one healing and almost invisible on his forearm. They were faint silvery things that Bard only noticed when they were close.

The discussion of scars never came up between them in conversation, and honestly, Bard never thought it was any of his business.

Though he could not deny he was curious, still, he never mentioned it, curiosity needn’t be spoken out loud.

Bard and Thranduil had not been together all that long, a couple of months, they met at the tail end of winter, the last dregs of the winter festivals loitering on the outskirts of the city, looking more menacing than cheery now that Christmas had passed by.

The grey slush had soaked Bard from his shoes up to the calves of his jeans, but he’d trudged dutifully through the snow with his youngest sibling to take her to see the reindeer that lay sullenly at the far end of a dreary paddock.

Tilda was far too involved with naming the reindeer to notice that her older brother’s attention was elsewhere.

A literal angel that had descended from the Heavens was leaning over the paddock fence watching the animals intently as though his gaze might will them to their feet.

It did not and eventually, they gave up, as they turned they caught Bard’s gaze and gave a shy smile before trying to hurry off through the slippery slush.

He’d had half a mind to follow the stranger but even the allure of smooth skin and long blond hair could not pull him from his tiny sister and her joy at seeing “Santa’s reindeer”. They remained at the fence for another 10 minutes before Tilda complained she was cold and Bard offered to take her to get hot chocolate to warm up.

Tilda had taken a seat by the window with her mug of hot chocolate leaving Bard to navigate a chair through the packed cafe, he sat quietly while Tilda chatted about the animals and the names she gave them, meanwhile, Bard could not shake the feeling of awe that had struck him at the sight of the blond stranger.

Sadly, he didn’t see him again that day.

They bumped into another a few weeks later, Bard instantly recognised him and stood in panicked silence as the blond apologised for not watching where he walked- after a long awkward pause Bard cleared his throat and did something he had never truly imaged he’d have the courage to do.

He spoke to him.

“I saw you- uh, at the winter festival.” He blurted out his voice croaking midway through his sentence, mortifying really, he would have to spend the rest of his life living as a hermit in the mountains now…

The blond just nodded as though Bard pointing out the obvious was the norm for him like he had expected this for some reason, the same shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he looked away.

“Ah, you were really staring at those reindeer.” Again, words came forth and he was wondering if his brain had actually engaged with the rest of his body that morning when he left the house, it seemed not but the blond responded this time with actual words.

Good LORD that voice could restart a heart.

“They looked sad,” Three words and Bard already knew he was done for, who sounds like that and looks like that- this whole beautiful package?! “I was trying to work out if I could come back that night and steal them.” He seemed sincere and Bard had to take a moment to relearn how to breathe as he choked on air.

“So… did you?”

He never got an answer instead he received a very rushed query that sounded something along the lines of ‘Wouldyouliketograbcoffee…. Youcansayno.” After deciphering the code Bard accepted the offer and they headed to the closest place for coffee.

Once in the warmth the blond opened up a bit and apologised for not introducing himself.

His name was Thranduil.

“I’m Bard, it is really nice to meet you, Thranduil.”

And that was how they met, they had had coffee and then remained in contact until a mutual friend forced them to ask one another out.

Even after 4 months Bard still couldn’t quite believe his luck, some mornings, after Thranduil had stayed the night Bard would roll over to watch the other sleep and he’d have to pinch himself to make sure the whole scene was real and he wasn’t just enjoying a ridiculously vivid dream.

Silly maybe, but Bard did really feel so incredibly lucky.

He realised quickly that Thranduil was a quiet man, always seemingly deep in thought, never sharing the contents on his mind as though the key to unlocking the secrets of the universe was to keep it bottled up in one head until one day something clicked.

That’s what Bard imagined, that had a complex system of thoughts and feelings zipping through his mind at a thousand miles per hour leaving him reeling but unaffected on the outside.

It was not fair to put him on a pedestal like that, he knew deep down if he ever voiced his thoughts that Thranduil would be hurt and he wasn’t sure why, it just felt wrong that he assumed the other was on the side of Godhood than mortal man.

Maybe in a past life…

The blond had a flair for art, thought stifled by his family and their expectations of him. Always needing to be better, to stand taller, to speak clearer and only to speak if the words held meaning- a scary way to live wondering if your words meant anything to those that surrounded you on a daily basis.

Asking to pass the salt would likely end up in a conversation about the wealth of the earth if that was how he was to live.

Bard hoped it was a slight embellishment the information Thranduil fed him, the tiny morsels of his life at home revealed with one sentence at a time but as soon as the blond realised he was talking about home he shut down.

There were times Bard would be studying frantically very last minute for an exam, his masters was important but not important enough to study in good time for a test,… at 29 years old he still lived like a teenager but with more bills and more responsibility, and suddenly he would be presented with a sketch of himself his hair wild and falling in his eyes as he leaned over a book gripping a pen a little too tightly.

Thranduil often explaining that it was always a pleasure to draw him while he studied or even slept, though he would quickly add that he hoped he did not “appear creepy” at the admission that he had, indeed, watched him sleep once or twice just to draw him.

“All in the name of art!” Bard would quip, he would then proceed to smother the blond with kisses- though if things got too steamy Thranduil would stammer out excuses before putting some distance between them.

Apologies would come from both of them but the air would remain tense. It was usually around this time that Thranduil would take his leave and head home claiming he had forgotten some important appointment with his family or doctor.

He saw the doctor a lot, and it worried Bard. Yet, he did not pry.

It all came to a head one summer night, they were walking back from a garden party/BBQ hosted by the same mutual friend that got them together, both of them on the right side of buzzed from the few drinks they had.

He wasn’t sure why he brought it up, the lack of intimacy in their relationship and his constant doctor’s visits.

“We have intimacy it just isn’t sexual. I know it isn’t enough for you,” The words came out wrong and sounded accusatory to his own ears. “In truth, it isn’t enough for me either.” Thranduil trailed off and looked away, he couldn’t find any other words to further explain himself.

His gaze stayed on the floor for a moment to shield himself from Bard’s curious and intense gaze.

“Tell me about you, what bothers you. Share the burden, you don’t have to do this alone.” Bard grabbed Thranduil’s hand giving it a supportive squeeze, smiling when the blond finally looked up at him.

“I’m so scared of how you’ll see me if I tell you who I am.”

“You’re Thranduil, my boyfriend and sketch artist extraordinaire!” They both laugh and Thranduil seemed more at ease but fear lingered in his now glassy blue eyes.

It was now or never it seemed.

“I’ve seen you look at the scars on my chest, I know you’re curious and honestly thought you’d work it out from that but… now I’m seriously thinking that you just look at me adoringly and don’t think what things are only that they are there.” A weak and nervous laugh escapes Thranduil, his hand is damp in Bard’s and he pulls it from the other’s grip.

“Well…” Bard began a small smile forming as they continued to walk back towards his flat, Thranduil was half right. It had never occurred to him that they were close enough that he could ask- he knew they were in a romantic relationship and that generally they could be more open about themselves but to Bard it still seemed inappropriate to ask about something like that.

Scars were something intimate and secretive about a person, a story that they may have buried deep within themselves almost repressed so as to not relive the memories every time they saw the reminder in their skin.

They way Thranduil spoke it was as though he wanted Bard to ask, perhaps it was easier to explain if someone asked than to broach the subject completely out of the blue and unbidden.

Quite the quandary, Bard was well aware that his boyfriend was notoriously secretive about many things, many personal things aside from his general interests and whatnot.

To ask him now was bold but if he didn’t he may lose the chance to try again later. The alcohol in his system buoyed his confidence to a degree and with some hesitation pushed on and bit the bullet.

“I do want to know- I see them all the time and I am curious as all Hell what they could be from. I just…,” He stopped speaking trying to grasp at words all the while they continued to walk now in an awkward silence both holding their breath for a moment. “How do you even bring up the conversation of scars without sounding like an ass with no tact?” Thranduil laughed as soon as he heard Bard’s reasoning for remaining shy on the subject and he grabbed his hand to squeeze it, clearly happy that his boyfriend was just as unsure as he was at times.

Though it never really showed, the uncertainty he certainly harboured. Bard seemed untouchable in his enthusiasm and courage, constantly looking out to the horizon and following the edge of the world rather than looking at his feet and watching his every step.

Never brutish in his words or actions, not overly gentle but capable of comfort- he had a calming influence simply because he seemed so confident all the time.

Thranduil felt lucky to have met such a man by chance, and he didn’t want to think about the future especially if Bard was not in it- there was a flutter of hope in his chest that once he explained what he had been through things would not change. But such an outlook felt entirely too positive for Thranduil and he dampened down the hope so that his expectation fit with who he felt he was and how he came across to others.

There had never been a time he had enquired as to how people saw him from the outside looking in, that would require speaking to a lot of people and he already felt tired thinking of doing so.

“They are surgery scars.” God, the words had come out in one breath and he felt his inside seize up as Bad whipped his head round to look at Thran, his eyes darted to his shirt then back to his face before speaking.

“Surgery scars, were you unwell?”

Thranduil gave a noise that could be construed as ‘Well…’ but nothing more, after a moment of silence Bard spoke again.

“You can tell me, I promise you that everything will be fine.”

That was not a promise Bard could make not with the nature of the surgery, instead it would open a whole other can of worms, Thranduil felt stiff with fear, the process of rigor mortis setting in before he’d even died from the sheer fear of what he was doing. HIs heart had never beat so fast.

“For a long time I believed I was sick, that there was something horribly wrong with me but I was not sick I just didn’t have the words to describe who I was yet.” He was drawing this out unnecessarily and it wasn’t helping his anxious heartbeat in the slightest.

“I am transgender, I have not always been known as Thranduil and the scars are from surgery to sculpt my chest to appear more masculine.” The stunned silence that followed was sickening, it felt heavy and cold in the pit of Thranduil’s stomach and he felt tears sting the corners of his eyes.

Then there it was! Bard’s grip tightened on Thranduil’s hand the squeeze of comfort he had always offered until he realised he was being pulled round to face his boyfriend.

They were stood at the foot of the path that led to Bard’s front door.

Their eyes met.

“This changes nothing- Thranduil, I love you, I can’t even think of enough words to get across how much I love you. I know you’re scared, I mean, you’ve just told me something huge something important to you and honestly I feel honoured that you trust me with this.” Bard wasn’t sure what to say, for all he knew Thranduil was the first transgender person he had ever met, he couldn’t be sure but he was definitely the first transgender person who had openly told him that about themselves.

Rather than hanging around outside while the blond felt so vulnerable, he tugged Thranduil into walking again and they went inside.

Thranduil remained quiet for a long time, Bard moved about the flat a moment before returning with a glass of water for Thranduil who accepted it gratefully.

“I- want to ask a question but I think it is too forward,” Even as he spoke Bard regretted the words but Thranduil had a knowing look in his eyes, as though he had expected a certain question before it had even been voiced.

“You want to know if this is the reason we haven’t had sex.” His tone flat and he took a sip of water, one hand clenched into a ball rested on his thigh the other holding tightly to the glass, at that moment he looked exhausted and Bard was at a loss on what to say.

So, rather than saying anything he sat next to Thranduil and covered his balled fist with his hand giving a light squeeze- the blond needed time and he absolutely needed an apology.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t necessary for me to question you on that- I can’t just assume things about you.” There were many things he wanted to say but wording them seemed hard now, or at least accusatory and that was the last thing he wanted.

“No, it’s fine, really… it is the reason but the fact you just jumped right to that as though, as though it was something that was wrong and not just nerves. I can’t expect you to be perfect about this if you don’t know anything.”

“You’re right to be upset, I wasn’t exactly delicate about it, and I shouldn’t have questioned you at all. Google is a thing, you don’t have to tell me anything, I want you to know that you have the freedom to tell me whatever you want or not.” Finally Thranduil set down the glass eyes red and glassy still he wanted to cry with relief that this man still loved him the fear in the back of his mind that leached into his heart and stomach was subsiding- how terrified he had been to think that Bard would toss him aside for ‘lying’ to him this whole time.

But no, his Bard was not like that. His Bard wanted to learn and understand and his Bard treated him like a human, as a man.

“I love you.”

 

 

 


	20. I Hope You Get To Meet Your Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond was the one that healed Thranduil after the dragon fire burned him and cost him his eyesight. He was also the one to help Thran get used to not being able to see. Bard finds out and instantly decides this elf is his best friend. Bonding between Elrond, Bard and thranduil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> :)

 

I Hope You Get To Meet Your Hero

 

When Bard met Elrond for the first time he had been thrust before him and told to make small talk while he waited on Thranduil to finish whatever it was he was doing.

The bowman was trying to find a comfortable position to stand in his new elven tunic when he was addressed politely by the brunet elf.

“You are the one that has set Lord Thranduil’s heart aflutter?” An amused tone as they watched on while Bard tugged at his collar and grumbled unhappily. This was all for Thranduil, even if he could not see him in it, he could  _feel_  it.

Finally Bard glanced up at the elf and offered an embarrassed smile he held out his hand to Elrond who, without missing a beat, took the hand to shake as mortal men were wont to do.

“Sorry, I really don’t mean to ignore you but this- I hate this tunic. Honestly.” Bard huffed but he let out a laugh and let go of Elrond’s hand, the now free hand was dragged through his wild hair and he tried searched for the appropriate words in a well-mannered tone to start a conversation.

Deep down he was still just a fisherman that, somehow, was deemed good enough to rule a kingdom… What was that about?!

“Let me properly introduce myself while you- ah, adjust to your attire,” A small smile graced Elrond’s lips and he gestured for Bard to follow him. “I am Lord Elrond Peredhel I have known Thranduil for so long that the trees that tower above us were mere seedlings when we met.” Bard was sure elves liked to show off their age more than hide it, completely the opposite of humans.

“I’ve heard your name before, Thran mentioned- uh Lord Thranduil has mentioned you before but I can’t remember why.” Bard blushed furiously at having used Thranduil’s shortened nickname in front of someone so damned important, he grumbled again as he tried to fix his tunic for the 100th time, as he did so he was distracted by a deep and delighted laugh from his newest acquaintance.

“He allows you to shorten his name?!” Elrond near crowed with joy at this, though far more elegant in his manner. Though his eyes were alight with amusement as they continued their walk.

“Don’t tell him that you know… Oh God…” The. King of Dale failed to keep a straight face and laughed aloud for a moment allowing himself to relax in Elrond’s presence.

“You know of the battle regarding the serpents of the North, yes? The battle that left Thranduil gravely wounded… He was brought to me to heal.

I was at his side throughout his recuperation ensuring he rested and was well taken care of.

He was…  _Is_   _still_  a stubborn elf and I was the firm hand that kept him on bed rest for longer than he wished.” Bard listened with rapt attention, so this was who kept Thranduil from burning out from getting sicker… He saved his life?!

“You know, I think you’re my new favourite person, Lord Elrond. I hope we can become good friends.” Bard said with a bright, and if not devious smile.

At that moment Thranduil sweeps into the room and is instantly silenced by Elrond clicking his tongue as though chiding the blind elf for ill manners.

“I do believe we are the perfect team to keep Thranduil in his place when his famous temper flares. I shall enjoy the time we spend together most assuredly.”

Thranduil huffs from the other side of the room but does not argue.


	21. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I request a high school AU? Bard and Thranduil can be teachers or students but not teacher and student, please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> :)

Under Pressure

 

When Bard pulled up into the parking lot of the school he noticed Thranduil was already stood by his own car smoking, and staring intensely at the teenagers excitably catching up with one another after the summer break.

The blond honestly looked as though he’d not slept and Bard could only shake his head as he climbed out of the car, grabbing his bag from the passenger seat as he did so.

“Is the start of a new school year like Christmas eve for you, Mr Oropherion?” The brunet called out as he crossed the parking lot toward his friend, Thranduil ignored him and continued smoking those his shoulders seemed less tense now.

They had met randomly on a school placement while still studying teaching, Sticking together and watching out for one another as trainees sometimes do in the big wide world of teaching. Both of them so excited to become educators, and were often strangely fascinated with how other, qualified, teachers lived.

At times they felt like imposters in a world they did not belong.

Zombie-like suited and booted humans shuffling through corridors holding half-empty coffee mugs filled with black coffee and enough sugar to rot even the strongest teeth. Eyes half closed and vacant as students pushed past them yelling and screeching, throwing the odd ‘Hi, sir!’ or ‘Morning, miss!’ as they sprinted by completely failing to hear the warning from the teacher that there was to be no running down the halls.

Both Bard and Thranduil had vowed never to become like those teachers, those that counted down the days until the next holiday.

However, after a particularly brutal day with some 15 years old that did not want to learn mathematics, Thranduil was found by his car smoking as though his life depended on it and an older and far wiser teacher consoling him over the fact that not everyone finds it amazing that numbers span across all languages without being lost in translation.

“I never believed this would be…” His voice sounded faint as though he had been dragged from a war zone and was still haunted by the sound of battle, Bard approached slowly out of respect. “It’s just, I had no idea how en pointe teenagers could be with unravelling your whole life before your very eyes and then dissecting every inch of it. How do they know so much about me when we’ve never spoken?!” When Bard finally reached the two the other teacher who was patting Thranduil’s shoulder looked up and offered a knowing smile before leaving the two of them to talk.

“You had a bad class?” Bard asks quietly, he wants to disapprove openly about the cigarette but he can’t bring himself to upset his friend further so instead sits quietly on the floor by Thran’s car.

The blond is sat with the driver’s seat door open leaning his elbows on his legs, the cigarette burning down slowly between two pale fingers. Thranduil looks absolutely fed up, and BArd couldn’t blame him, kids were cruel.

“Bad, it was the fucking worst. How do kids find out stuff about you when you’ve not even met before, is this why they tell you to change your name on social media so they can’t find you?” He had, of course, heeded the warning, but it hadn’t made any difference it seems. They still asked him about things they shouldn’t have known about.

“They asked me awful things, like why my ex-boyfriend and I break up so suddenly after we’d recently been engaged?” That seemed to have hit him hard and Bard remained silent he knew the blond was still trying to process what had happened.

It wasn’t until Thranduil asked Bard a question that he actually decided to speak.

“Have you had any bad classes here yet?” Thranduil threw the cigarette end to the floor and ground it out with the heel of his boot, they looked extremely expensive and Bard wondered how a student could afford such things.

“I teach English Lit, Thran. Every day is a bad day, have you ever tried to get a teenager interested in Shakespeare?” He laughed as he spoke, “I might as well be asking them if they are interested in the weave of my jacket.” It did not matter to him how much they liked Shakespeare, there were some students that came to class worked and left without even leaving a mark in his memory, some brilliant but angry, others outright refusing to take part in something they were not remotely interested.

Some students just didn’t show up.

It was just how it was sometimes.

He had already been grilled by the kids, they’d asked him if he was married, if he had kids and of course, did he know anything about handsome Mr Oropherion? All of which he managed to avoid answering by making them laugh instead.

It was easy, sometimes, but not when it was maths.

“I suppose I don’t have it as bad as you, but I know I definitely need to make a new social media account online without my own face on it... “ Thranduil made a face at that but said nothing more on the matter.

They would both come to learn that some weeks as a teacher were absolutely not worth it, but some days more than made up for it.

The Thranduil was a different man now, he walked tall and took no prisoners when it came to the students, they were not allowed to talk in class unless he said so, and homework would be completed and handed in on the day requested and if not you would be unable to avoid detention.

More often than not Bard would find him in his classroom at lunch with some very sorry looking students sat scribbling rapidly in hopes they could finish the homework and leave as soon as possible, on those days Bard would sit by the blond and read the paper until Thranduil, though begrudgingly, dismissed the students warning them that he wanted to see the homework on his desk by days end lest another detention would come their way.

Bard often told him he was too hard on them, Thranduil always responded with the following.

“I care about their grades, they don’t have to like me but they have to graduate with decent grades and I will continue to be the devil so that they can go out into the world confident of their abilities.”

That was when Bard realised he cared for Thranduil more than he should.

When he approached Thranduil the maths teacher was still smoking, his eyes narrowed as he continued to watch the students greet one another chattering excitedly about the vacations and where they went and what they did.

“Thran, honestly, you’re not helping your reputation at all by staring them down like that. Come on let’s go get coffee and catch up, I haven’t seen you all summer.” It was true, Bard had been back in Wales visiting his family and Thranduil had been roped into helping his own family at their private summer camp for 6 weeks.

When Thranduil had told Bard what he was doing that summer the brunet crowed with laughter all the while trying to apologise to Thranduil and sympathise.

“Camp counsellor Thran?” Bard had joked but stopped when Thranduil gave him a sour look like he might actually hit him.

The went smoothly, and Bard could tell that Thranduil was really excited to be back, although he’d not admit such a thing. On several occasions Bard would catch Thranduil smiling to himself, he’d even have a spring in his step.

Jokingly he asked if Thranduil had met someone and felt his stomach drop when Thranduil looked away blushing for a moment.

“Wait… you have?!” He couldn’t raise his voice over a whisper in the staffroom, people were extremely nosey and yet Bard want to yell, he wanted to yell and curse but not at Thran, just out loud in general because BLOODY FUCK who had captured Thran’s attention?

Jealousy, it couldn’t be tamed within him, he was absolutely jealous.

Thranduil was sat holding his espresso, the headmaster had deemed it appropriate to buy the staffroom a new coffee machine, everyone was gulping down espressos like they were going out of fashion.

Thranduil included.

“I’m not talking about it here.” Thranduil said downing his drink in one, Bard rolled his eyes, this was worse than… oh yeah… school.

Grabbing the new texts for his next class Bard shoved some over to the blond and stood up,

“I’ll ignore the fact you downed your coffee like a shot if you help me carry these to my classroom. We can talk on the way.” The last part of his sentence whispered and Thranduil took no time in scooping up the books and following Bard out of the staffroom and down the hall.

“So… You’ve met someone?” He grimaced because, really, he shouldn't have been the one to bring it up, but he just couldn’t stand the fact Thranduil was so happy and it wasn’t with him… not that he had ever given the blond the hint that he may have liked him.

Thranduil deserved to be happy Bard just wished it was a happiness he was providing.

Sighing inwardly he waited for Thranduil to spill all about this new beau.

“Well, I haven’t actually told them I like them yet.” Thranduil admitted quietly as they both walked up the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the empty space, such a place always seemed so alien when the students weren’t fulling the halls.

“Alright, so when do you plan on telling them?”

“Well, I might not. I don’t even know if they date men, I just really like him, Bard. He’s sweet and funny and smart. I’ve known him for a few years and we get on well.” His tone of voice seemed desperate for a moment, as though willing Bard to understand him, which he did, perfectly well, some guy had Thranduil wrapped around his little finger and he didn’t even know!

Gods, he hated whoever this man was.

Hated him.

“If he’s all that and a bag of chips, surely you can talk to him about anything.” There it was, the obvious jealousy he couldn’t conceal he didn’t look at Thran as they took the last few steps up to his classroom.

The door pushed open easily and Bard made his way inside leaving the books on the closest table and gesturing for Thranduil to do the same.

“If you don’t want to hear it why did you ask me about him?” Thranduil snapped, his eyes betrayed his hurt rather than the anger heard in his voice.

Sighing Bard moved towards Thranduil and gently tugged him into the classroom closing the door behind them so that any stray students would not overhear the conversation.

“Forgive me, it’s embarrassing but hearing about someone who could steal my best friend away makes me sad and a little angry. I’m honestly happy you’ve found someone I was just surprised at how sudden it was.” Gods, he was a liar but he couldn’t just outright tell Thranduil he was in love with him, he couldn’t just… admit his feelings, could he?

“Sit down, Bard. Let me tell you about my summer, we have time, neither of us has classes until after the first break. We’re fine to talk here.” Thranduil’s voice was gentle now, all hurt erased somehow, the smile on his face was the same one as earlier as he spoke of his new crush.

It made Bard’s insides squirm uncomfortably.

“I didn’t realise that helping out at the summer camp just meant wandering around doing whatever my mother or father told me to do. I was not a camp counsellor and I didn’t teach anyone to swim or fire a bow.

Don’t look so disappointed you can laugh at the pictures of me in the camp uniform later, I had to wear the shorts it was mandatory.

Anyhow, I was usually at a loose end so I had a lot of time to think. This man, I’d know for years, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Ahah, you know when you’re a teenager and you obsess over your crush, it was like that.

The more time I spent away from him and thinking of him I realised I loved him, and I spent many nights panicking about that, and also mountain lions… but mostly if the man I loved felt the same.

I hadn’t had a chance to miss him like this, we’d spent a lot of time together before this and never spent more time apart than perhaps a weekend. I was a mess so in the end I spoke with my parents about it and they seemed to think he would feel the same but now I am not so sure.

Just seeing him this morning, I’m second guessing myself, after all, he literally just called me his best friend. He literally just friend zoned me…” The amusement in Thranduil’s voice aggravated Bard to no end, not only did he have a crush but also had someone else he called his best fri- ooooh.

OH.

OH!

Bard’s head snaps up and his eyes meet with Thranduil’s the blond looked so ridiculously smug sat back in his seat, he was leaned back casual as all get out arms folded over his chest a smirk spread over his face.

“You’re a bastard, Oropherion, a real bastard to string me along like that.” Bard growled his heart was thudding hard in his chest and he knew he was blushing, there was no doubt about it. Thranduil had gotten him good but… in the end he had won.

He was the one Thranduil wanted.

“Where would the fun be if I just flung myself to the floor weeping and telling you how much I adored you?” The blond feigned a suffering tone, a hand now raised and the back to his forehead as though truly wracked with guilt.

“For fuck sake, Thran. Are you going to let me kiss you or are you going to continue being this dramatic all day, we’ll run out of time for anything by the time your theatrical show ends, honestly, you should have gone into show business.” The brunet teased as he stood from his seat, he walked past Thranduil with the intention of collecting the books he had unceremoniously dumped on the first table he saw earlier, but Thranduil had other ideas and before he knew it Bard was pulled into the blond’s lap and kissed so deeply that stars started to prick his vision when they parted.

“You love me for who I am, so don’t try and pretend now that anything I do is irritating because I shall not believe you for a second. I better get to my classroom, I am sure someone is looking for the both of us as we speak.

I will surely see you at lunch, and I do so hope we have a repeat of just now.

Just maybe without the jealousy, though I can’t say I didn’t like seeing you worked up over a fictional competitor.

You’ve always been the only one for me.”

With that Thranduil left for his own classroom a floor below Bard’s and a few students came piling in to see the English teacher with questions regarding homework, completely unaware of the ripe gossip fodder they’d missed by seconds.


	22. A Million Little Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, so, I don't know if you've written it yet, but if you haven't, then you should definitely write Christmas fic for them, or the closest available seasonal celebration, let Thranduil show off how the Elves celebrate since Bard probably has no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> Thanks 
> 
> :)

A Million Little Pieces

 

 

The invitation had been extremely formal, written on thick cream parchment in flowing green script. When it had first been delivered Bard had set it aside while he finished paperwork, after all, as the King of Dale he had priorities, even if the fancy sealed letter did look like it had come from the elven realm.

Once everything he had set out to do that day had been done, the brunet returned to the sealed letter, it felt warm under his hands as though it had been laid out in the sun all day. Turning it over his heart have that family flutter at the sight of the elven king’s sealed pressed into the wax.

It always seemed a shame to break the seal but Bard did so and unfolded the letter to read, as he did the smell of spring flowers wafted up from the warm paper in his hands, such a fanciful letter which meant it must have been important.

It was kind of.

A celebration of the spring equinox…

Bard called the children in and explained the letter and three very excited faces peered back as they begged for the opportunity to attend.

“Well… We have all been working hard lately, me with… well being King and you all with school work and whatnot. I suppose we could go, but it all depends on if you think I am the best dad ever or not…” Upon hearing his words the children dive on him wrapping their arms around him and nearly toppling him over in their excitement.

“Da, stop joking around and reply to Lord Thranduil already.”

The invitation was accepted in a short and polite letter and sent off via the bird it had been delivered by in a matter of moments.

\---

As the celebration was to be at night, Bard, the children and several guards set off in the early afternoon. Though the sun shone down upon them from a bright blue sky they were still wrapped in cloaks to protect them from the sharp cold of the wind, the last of the winter that lingered on.

It wasn’t long before the three children began to whine at the length of the journey, Tilda first as riding horseback was still new to her and uncomfortable. Eventually, Bard stopped and had her riding with him while one of the guards tethered her horse to his and led it down the winding road while Bard entertained all with a short story from his childhood.

Soon the fields and rivers gave way to trees, becoming denser as they travelled deeper into the heart of the great forest known now as Mirkwood.

They were greeted by Tauriel at the gates of the palace and the children called out to her excitedly running to her once helped down from their horses.

Bard was ushered into the King’s rooms almost immediately while the children were taken to the rooms they would be staying in to wash up and change for the evening festivities.

Thranduil was sat at his desk, not dressed as extravagantly as he usually is, a tunic of pale grey, darker leggings and boots the match, his hair in a perfect braid, he had gotten up from his seat as soon as Bard had entered and greeted him with a bright smile, as though disbelieving of the other’s presence.

“Greetings, old friend.” They bowed formally before Thranduil pulled the other into an embrace clearly happy to see the familiar face of Bard. “I must say you look well, perhaps being the ruler of Dale is suited well to you.” He moves back toward his desk where two goblets sat along with a silver pitcher, which was likely wine, pouring drinks for the both of them Thranduil hands one to Bard.

“Starting early are we?” Bard asks but he takes the goblet without hesitation, after the long trek to Mirkwood he absolutely needed it.

“This is a grand farewell to winter, a joyous occasion when the young elves of my kingdom request the hand of those they adore. When flowers start to bloom, we start anew in Spring, Bard. It is a time to lay old hurt to rest and allow life to carry on as it always should.”

The king of Dale merely nodded and took a long drink from his goblet. There was a brightness in Thranduil he hadn’t seen before, he enjoyed it and wondered where it stemmed from.

* * *

 

\---

Bard stood in front of the mirror in the chambers offered by Thranduil readjusting the collar of his robe yet again.

Something felt off with the whole outfit, Sigrid had dropped in to tell him they were all heading out to the forest without him if he took any longer, she mentioned that his unease was probably because the clothing was the most expensive thing he’d ever worn before, Bard agreed but did not leave his chambers.

The children left for the forest without him with Tauriel in tow ever watchful as they wandered through the twilight lit forest toward the clearing intended for the celebrations.

A knock on the door pulled him from his reflection and he called for whoever it was to enter, his hands still tugged at the fabric of the robe as Thranduil swept in with a knowing look.

Bard caught a glimpse of the elven king dressed for the equinox and his hands stilled while his eyes took in the vision behind him.

Thranduil wore a pale green tunic and leggings under a robe of white and silver, his hair free of the braid now and hanging over his shoulder in a perfect curtain of white blond. His crown was fashioned from silver birch twigs and white cherry blossoms, fine silver chains adorned the twigs and glinted in the candlelight as he moved past Bard’s bed to stand behind him.

“Fair Sigrid was correct, you are worrying yourself over your outfit. Stay your hands Bard and let us join the celebrations before they are over. Come enjoy the night and forget who you are supposed to be and come only as Bard.” The elf placed a hand on Bard’s shoulder and pulled him round away from his reflection, he watched as Bard sighed and moved his gaze from himself to the floor.

“Yes, that sounds like a good plan. Does that mean tonight you come only as Thranduil?” He received an odd look from the king of the forest but Thranduil nodded before moving off to leave the room only stopping to gesture for Bard to follow him.

\---

The festivities were in full swing, wine flowed easily while music played and many danced around the clearing smiling brightly as those they shared their joy with. Many came with flowers in their hair, some had made flower crowns and passed them out to those that sought out further adornment.

Tilda and Sigrid found them beautiful and Thranduil sought out 2 for the young princesses.

Bard had seen many proposals that night, young elves shyly shuffling up to others and expressing their love and offering shining silver rings which were accepted readily, Bard aw what great joy it gave Thranduil to see his people happy like this and wondered if the elven king had someone in his life he wished to share such a moment with.

As though his thoughts could summon Thranduil the blond appeared at his side holding two goblets of wine, his beautiful silver and white robe missing from his person, though he didn’t seem to miss it so Bard didn’t mention it, he only accepted one of the goblets instead and offered the elf a smile in thanks.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, my lord Bard. Is something amiss?” Thranduil’s voice was quiet but Bard strangely could still hear him over the music and singing. “I had hoped the celebration would renew you, give you space to be you rather than the king of Dale.”

It had, he just had been lost in thought and those thoughts had run away from him leaving him seemingly out of sorts.

Bard offered a smile to Thranduil as though trying to convince him all was well.

“There were many proposals tonight, do you think you could do all that again?” Bard asks his eyes gaze now turning toward the dancing youths, one of them spots Bard watching them dance and blushes pink, they approach him and take their flower crown from their head and places it gently on Bard’s head.

“This night you are the king of the woodland realm, Lord Bard.” Their voice shook as they spoke but they smiled, all the same, Bard had the suspicion that this was a subtle flirting technique.

As flattered as he was he knew he was never able to reciprocate, even if it seemed only a drunken fling among the spring blooms, his heart was not moved and could not be swayed regardless of the amount of wine he had consumed.

“Would you dance with me?” It was likely an innocent request but Bard could not bring himself to move from his spot under the willow tree, he gripped his drink and prepared himself to say no, but before he could Thranduil stepped forward.

“I believe Lord Bard is too old to be dancing with you, young one. It would be unseemly for him to accept.” The younger elf nodded and hurried off to hide their embarrassment, though they did seem to receive a warrior’s welcome upon returning to their friends, so their mortification was likely soothed.

When Bard glanced over at Thranduil the elf’s expression was stony as he looked out across the clearing. They remained quiet for some time until Thranduil turned the expression to Bard though it softened quickly.

“Forgive me if I overstepped, Bard. I did not think you would appreciate a teenager mooning over you.”

“You’re right, no offence taken, you refused on my behalf but I had planned the same. Though, it does seem to leave me without a dancing partner.” The brunet responded as he set his now empty goblet down on a nearby table. HIs words garnered a smile from the blond and he too set down his drink before offering his hand to Bard to dance.

“It would be my pleasure to take their place.” As they danced amongst the others they chatted idly, Thranduil spoke of letters he had received from Legolas and Bard caught him up on the progress of Bain’s weapons training.

“I… know this may seem a silly question, but is it normal for two kings to dance together this way?” Bard offers a crooked grin as he speaks as though to prove he is merely asking more in jest than worry.

“What happens happens, and anything can happen when the spring equinox is upon us. Should I find you a pretty maid instead?”

“You are prettier than any maid.”

“The wine has gotten to your head, you’re out of sorts, Lord Bard.”

“Quite the contrary, my Lord Thranduil. The wine gives me the courage to say the things I truly wish for you to hear.”

“I see, interesting effect alcohol has on you, I must admit, I do rather like it.”

They both pause their dancing for a moment.

Did they want the same thing?

Without another word Thranduil led Bard away from the revellers and into the gloom of the forest, the music could still be heard but the light from the lanterns was dim here and only they stood among the silent trees.

“Bard... “ The blond stopped, he didn’t know what to say, what could he say to convey just what he wanted, words failed him and he could only feel the thumping of his own heart at that moment and it sped up when Bard smiled at him reaching out to caress the loose strands of white blond hair hanging over Thranduil’s shoulders.

“Might I borrow your words from earlier?” Bard begins, the alcohol in his veins bolstering him in his courage as he moved to close the distance between them. “What happens happens and anything can happen when the spring equinox is upon us.” There’s a beat of silence before Bard presses a kiss to Thranduil’s wine sweetened lips.

Thranduil’s shoulders sag not realising the tension he had held in them as Bard spoke, but now he had time to rejoice, and the relief and joy flooding him was a heady mix. He moaned quietly, his hands moving to grab the fabric of Bard’s robe in a bid to steady himself.

When they parted Thranduil sighed though the sound was one of frustration, it was too little, it was not enough for him, a single kiss…

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you not satisfied?” Bard asks almost laughing as he pushes Thranduil back toward the well-lit clearing, though when Thranduil resists he looks up giving him a soft and affectionate look. “You can have as much of me as you like later, but we need to keep up appearances at this celebration, it is important to you and I am not letting wine and lust stop you from doing your duty to your people.”

\---

When Bard woke the next morning his head ached like a stampede of horses had trampled over him, his body ached his muscles sore and tight, that wine really had done a number on him and he did not appreciate past Bard’s proclivity for drinking it whenever it was offered to him.

When he finally had the courage to open his eyes he was greeted by a mass of blond hair on his chest. His mind raced through the events of the celebration the night prior. He’d drank wine, watched the party from afar and enjoyed the music, he had spoken with Thranduil then they had kissed…

Then they had KISSED!!!!

The rest of the memories came flooding back and he had to hold back from yelling, he’d slept with the king of Mirkwood.

He, Bard King of Dale, had slept with Thranduil… they’d drunkenly fallen into bed together and…

The mass of hair moved suddenly and Bard heard the sound of a groan coming from his chest. Thranduil pushed himself up into the sitting position and ran a hand through the now tangled mess on his head.

“Why do I do this to myself, every year I remind myself that a king must have self-restraint and yet every year without fail I drink so much wine that I suffer for days afterwards….” He seemed to be talking to himself and Bard jumped when his piercing gaze is suddenly on him, though at least Thranduil didn’t seem surprised to see him…

That was certainly something.

“You look as though spirits haunted you all night.” He said before flopping back down into bed to lie next to Bard. “How is your head?” Bard knew his voice was quiet but he couldn’t help but wince, oh it truly sounded as though the elf beside him was yelling and his stomach did an unhealthy feeling flip as he rolled on his side to face the blond.

“I will be honest, I feel as though someone dropped a mountain on me.” He smiles weakly and Thranduil returns it without hesitation, they lie in silence for a while after that but remain close. Bard rests his hand on Thranduil’s hip and strokes the soft skin there for a long time.

It feels right to be there even if it had taken him some time to realise where ‘there’ was.

“Did you enjoy how we celebrate the equinox here in my kingdom?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely, but tell me, do you usually woo kings of neighbouring kingdoms into bed or am I an exception?”

“You’re the first one to accept… I am, of course merely saying this in jest, I hope you know that this was serious for me.” Thranduil’s playful smile had gone and was replaced with something akin to fear that Bard wanted to remove as soon as he saw it.

“Yes, as it was for me. Though, let us hope no one noticed their king leaving with another last night.”  
  


“They would have noticed but will have the grace not to speak on it, not for a long time.”

“Who knows, maybe the next spring equinox will be just as eventful.”

“We can only hope...” 


	23. Love Like Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you are still taking prompts could you write depressed Thranduil with Bard helping him cope? I mean like Bard already knowing there are some bad days for him and making it easier? Thank you in either case, love your writing 💕

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt requests are still open on my blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> Thanks :)

Love Like Winter **  
**

 

 

Depression is a monster that holds you captive but leaves the door unlocked and wide open as though baiting you to try and escape.

It knows you won’t try.

Not any more.

Bard was well aware of the pitfalls of living with depression, though it was not something he had tangled with personally but he had seen it lay waste to those he cared for. It showed its face in many different ways.

Lethargy. Reckless behaviour. Irritability. Loss of appetite. The list was near endless, and it did not discriminate, not even when it came to fearless and fearsome elven lords.

When Bard received the letter it had come by bird; what bird it was he had no idea he was the king of a city of land, not a birdwatcher. The letter itself had been written hurriedly the loops seemed thin as though time was not taken to write the missive in any way.

It was perfectly legible, just not smugly perfect as usual. Whoever had written it managed to portray urgency before Bard could even begin reading.

Right away he knew it had been from the woodland realm though he had expected the letter to be something formal and written by a scribe- when his eyes skimmed over the words he had to take a minute to let the information sink in.

A heavy sigh didn’t shift the dread settling in his chest, and he reread the note now tightly gripped in one hand.

Tauriel had written to explain her adopted father’s deteriorating health. She needed his help, while Bard was no healer he was a close friend to the king of Mirkwood, as close as Thranduil would let anyone be.

Close as in distance also, and sometimes the dragonslayer wondered if it was not convenience that they asked him to come, of course, he would bat those thoughts aside and mentally apologise profusely for even thinking such a thing. He’d feel awful for the rest of the day and even though the scene never played out in real life it was just as awful in his mind.

Regardless of how convenient it was Tauriel had asked for him specifically and without hesitation, he would go and see his friend.

Bard rode out to Mirkwood the next day after leaving Bain in charge of the city. He was old enough to now that Bard could happily step down from the throne should he have the desire to, and while he might have felt old in his bones his appearance had not changed all that much.

A remark that had been made toward him several times over the years, and though Bard brushed it off with a laugh and fake secrets to his youthful complexion, it was concerning to him too. So to that end, he decided remaining on the throne would be the best use of his time until Bain decided to oust him.

When Bard arrived in Mirkwood, he was ushered through a side entrance as though his being there was to be treated with the utmost of secrecy, as though a mistress to be hidden from the prying eyes of the court.

He understood that keeping the king’s illness a secret was for the safety of all, the last thing Thranduil needed was his kingdom knowing every aspect of his life. While he seemed so commanding and unwavering, the facade thrown out to the masses was just that, a perfect mask, an act that Thranduil left in the minds of all until behind closed doors.

Thranduil was still in bed when Bard entered the king’s rooms, he wasn’t sleeping but showed no intentions of getting up even when he saw Bard step over to the bed and sit on the edge of it.

Silence hung in the air for a long time as the dragonslayer took in the other's appearance; Thranduil looked tired, his was hair pulled back off his face in a long messy braid and while he had the look of someone just waking from a long rest his eyes held dark circles beneath them. There wasn’t much else to see as the sheets were pulled up to his chest leaving only bare shoulders which seemed thinner than the last time he had seen the elf.

However, he wasn’t to be sure as he had never seen Thranduil in a state of undress before, even in his low moments he had managed to get dressed, this time seemed worse than the others and when Bard finally moved to speak he noticed Thranduil was not looking at him ,rather he was staring off across the room, his cheek rested against a pillow.

There was no easy way to start the conversation when both of them knew why he was there sat on the edge of the bed his back ramrod straight as though terrified to move and touch anything he wasn’t supposed to, namely Thranduil himself.

Eventually, Thranduil sat up a hand lifting to rub the nape of his neck as though to soothe himself from whatever played on his mind; whatever it was had left him a ghost of himself a pale creature refusing company.

Tauriel had been frightened for her father and Bard could see why.

“Figured you could use a friend.” He began as his gaze moved about the room taking in mess, mainly clothing hanging over various items of furniture, and a broken pitcher that had clearly held wine still lay by his desk, the red stained floor made his stomach flip and without thinking he turned to look at Thranduil to check for any injury.

The elf beside him still hadn’t spoken instead he just sighed and leaned forward resting his forehead on Bard’s shoulder; it was all he could offer, there were no words to describe his feelings they were a swirling mess one second and then just like the day turned to night, his emotions seemed to be bleached from him and he felt numb.

At least Bard hadn’t expected conversation at least Bard seemed to understand to a degree what he was going through.

“Are you at least talking to a healer, have you spoken to anyone in the past few days?” Maybe it was time to nudge Thranduil onto the road of recovery, it was a long road but getting him out of bed and dressed would be a start.

Work on the small things first.

“Why don’t you have a bath and I’ll see about getting us something to eat, you’ll feel better once you’ve crawled out of that pit you’ve called your home.” The joke reached the elf, it was well received and when he looked up at Bard finally there was a weak smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

It was enough, it wasn’t as though Thranduil had to smile but it was a relief to see something moved him from his state of detachment. His eyes weren’t so dull now as though he had reattached himself to reality as though he’d come down from the atmosphere and his feet now touched the earth anchoring him there for the time being.

“Get a wash, even if it's quick- get yourself clean.”

Thranduil rose from the bed without questioning him and without complaint, the dragonslayer was quick to turn his gaze away from the nude elf, he should have known from the bare chest that Thranduil hadn’t dressed.

While the elf busied himself in another room, Bard called a guard and had him bring several members of staff to the room; they cleared away the clothes and the broken pitcher, while one scrubbed the red stain from the carpet but not before Bard had them confirm it was indeed wine and not what he had feared it could have been.

Clean clothes were laid out on the bed once fresh sheets had been fitted. Someone brought fruit and bread to the room and left them on the desk along with a new pitcher filled with water, Bard suggested that wine would not be a good idea.

For a spell he simply wandered around the room taking in the private sanctuary he had been allowed to see for the first time; it would likely be the last time so he wanted to savour it disregarding how odd it seemed that he had wanted to do that at all, and trying his hardest to ignore the ache it left in his chest.

That was a Bard problem not to be discussed with other parties.

When Thranduil returned he did not pause to take in the tidy room, or the fact Bard had busied himself with opening the double doors that led out to a large balcony; he had the grace to drag a robe around his naked form before sitting on the edge of the bed.

It took him some time to dress but once dressed he joined Bard outside; he stood by the dragonslayer’s side an apple in one hand and a knife in the other with the intention of cutting the fruit.

When he spoke his voice was distant still.

“This affliction, it is not like any disease I have been confronted with. It toys with my mind and my body but no healing herbs can ease the sickness. My insides are stained with it.”

“It isn’t that easy but you know that already,” They both shifted as though suddenly uncomfortable though Bard was likely the only one that felt that way really. “It is good to see you up and wearing clothes.” His words produce a smirk but nothing more was said on that subject which was just fine and dandy for Bard as there was nothing to say on the matter.

Nothing at all.

“I’m sorry that you’re having to deal with this, Thranduil. While I am no expert on what is happening I know that certain things can trigger reactions like yours… and again, I don’t mean to push you at all but I do really hope you are speaking to someone about what you’re going through.” Bard’s words were directed into the darkening sky, the sunset was dying and the inky night crept slowly in; he couldn’t bring himself to look the elf in the eye not when he had basically just told him what he should do- the wrong move really.

Thranduil had set down the apple and the knife; he stepped away from the balcony railing for a moment as though to pace but returned only to grip the railing for support as though his legs may give way at any moment.

“I cannot.” The blond murmured the sound of his voice almost drowned out as night birds trilled their evening song from the nearby trees. “The are times where I am not so afraid but those moments are fleeting; how can I explain this problem I have when I cannot describe it to myself?!” Gods, the wretched tone of voice… it was unbearable; Bard reached out and took one of Thranduil’s hands in his own the elf was freezing.

“It isn’t something new to us, in Dale we see it all the time. It’s like fading, Thranduil. There are people that can help you if you want we can talk about this until you feel ready. You’re not alone and you never will be.” Thranduil pulled his hand from Bard’s and stalked off back inside slamming the doors behind him and shutting Bard out physically and likely emotionally.

He waited for some time before following Thranduil inside, he was greeted with silence and so Bard took it as an invitation to leave. Though, the moment he stepped outside of the door he was ambushed by several members of staff vying for his attention.

“He shut me out.”

“Are you going to leave?”

There was no doubt about it, Thranduil had absolutely made it clear without even speaking that Bard had outstayed his welcome there but there was no way he could leave now not when he had genuinely had a breakthrough with the elf.

“No, I won’t leave not until he physically throws me out himself.” There was a hint of a smile as he spoke the amusement in his tone faint but the elves that stood around him found relief in it and they ushered him into a set of rooms nearby.

Before Bard even considered sleep, or food or anything else offered he moved toward the desk and pulled up the chair, there was already parchment, ink and quills; he penned a letter to his children explaining he would be away longer than anticipated and that they have no need to worry he would return when he could.

Bain would be fine, Sigrid and Tilda would carry on as though their father still walked the halls of the castle. Nothing would change aside from his place would not be set at dinner and the fires would not be lit at night in his rooms.

With the letter on its way home, Bard fell into bed and closed his eyes.

That night saw him restless, he tossed and turned until he decided to give up. The moon was still high when he stepped out into the gardens. The night birds had fallen silent now and only the moon and stars above him gave him any company as he moved along the small path that led through the grounds.

He came face to face with Thranduil as he rounded a corner, they stood looking at one another awkwardly; they shared an extremely uncomfortable silence before either of them considered making any sort of conversation to diffuse the situation.

“I’m sorry, Thranduil. I pushed too hard.”

“Ah, no, I was just wildly unhappy that you knew what to do and I hated not having the answers. I have no excuse to behave such a way when you’re only trying to help.”

“Maybe so, but I did just come in and start barking orders.”

“You cared enough to come and I am grateful. Who knows how long I may have been in that bed had you not helped me leave it… I want to come to Dale, I want to speak to the people who suffer- who have suffered I want my healers to learn from them.

While you said it must be like fading there is much more to it than that, at least with fading we have the option of sailing to the undying lands. Humans do not have that and I want to know how they survive this.” His voice was barely raised from a whisper but Bard heard him loud and clear and while it was indirect it was definitely clear Thranduil wanted help.

He was asking for help and Bard would give it without reservation.

“Alright, we can go to Dale and we can set this up. My people and I would be honoured to help your healers learn something new. You are welcome to stay as long as you like.” Bard reached out but stopped unsure what he intended to do but before he could retract his hand Thranduil grabbed it and squeezed it a thank you without words.

Neither knew if Thranduil would ever be ok, but at least he wouldn’t have to do it alone, even if it meant Bard having to examine those odd feelings of his that flitted around his chest whenever the elven lord was around.

Even if it meant hiding them- whatever they were.


	24. Wishing Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idk if u still take barduil prompts but if you do! here’s one: person A is the first person to pray to a particular god/spirit/whatever in a few hundred years, so the god/spirit(person B) shows up to personally answer the prayer and then refuses to leave until the prayer is answered in full - bonus points if person B figures out texting (A sets out an offering of wine as part of their deal with B and gets a text from an unknown # complaining about the vintage) also extra bonus for use of emojis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> Thanks! :)

Wishing Well

 

 

 

Bard tossed the letter onto the countertop a sour look on his face as he did so.

 

He wasn’t sure if he could handle any further rejection, with the growing pile of letters from failed applications mocking him as they lay innocently on the countertop in the tiny kitchen; just what would it take to turn things around?

 

If it wasn’t jobs it was people, Bard couldn’t seem to catch a break when it came to dating either… though recently he hadn’t really tried. His ego could only take so much before he learned the lesson of humility and just gave up.

 

The cosmos was clearly working against him, and if any deities existed, well, they absolutely had it in for him.

 

With a bank account almost always in the red and his love life being the punchline to his joke of a life, Bard was finding it hard to get out of bed in a morning.

 

Thankfully, though he really did not feel good about the situation, his money woes were only something he had to contend with. His children were well taken care of with their mother, and while he would have been overjoyed to have had them live with him after the divorce, it just wasn’t feasible.

 

The reality was that he just could not afford to take care of the kids on the meagre salary he was on, a delivery driver for a pizza place was nothing to brag about and the majority of the time Bard found himself being the oldest one delivering pizzas, a blow to his already low self-esteem.

 

While he knew he could survive (just) on packet noodles, coffee and the odd free pizza here and there, he knew his children couldn’t, and while they would have thought it was fantastic, Bard could never allow it to be their reality.

 

With these thoughts still swirling in his mind, Bard grabbed up his keys and, with what little cash he had, left the house for the day. The sunshine beating down on the pavement lifted his spirits already and with the sound of the city as his music he headed toward the park.

 

Getting out would do him wonders, it was better than sitting around moping in the tiny apartment using utilities he could scarcely afford. At least out in the city he had more chances of bumping into friends or even the future Mrs Bowman… who knew?!

 

The city park was the perfect place to be in the summer, people spent their entire weekend there walking with their dogs, rowing on the lake or just sitting in the sun chatting idly with friends and family. It eased Bard’s worry to see the residents of the city out delighting in the summer days, it was likely they all had their own concerns- but out in the sun, the world seemed more carefree worries were pushed to the back of minds in favour of gossip and jokes.

 

At first, he had planned to take the route around the lake, but the sheer amount of people crowding on the banks and walkways had him take a left turn into the wooded area instead.

 

Bard and the kids had walked these paths many times, sometimes going off the trails in hopes of finding an undiscovered area- much to the children’s displeasure, they never found anything new. Sometimes the odd squirrel but nothing to write home about.

 

So engrossed in thoughts of his children and their time together it took Bard quite some time to realise he was now on a very unfamiliar trail, and for a good 30 minutes or so had not passed a single soul nor could he now hear the sounds of the park behind him.

 

For a moment he did consider turning back, the sun now barely filtered through the tree canopy high above his head, the shade was chilly. Logic kicked in not seconds later, and he pushed on, after all, this was just a seemingly tame adventure. He was in the park the only thing that could happen to him would be that he’d get locked in at night and sleeping in the park in summer didn’t seem all that bad.

 

What he stumbled upon next was startling.

 

The dense trees broke, and Bard stepped into the clearing before him. There stood tall and proud towering above him and past the tree line was a temple.

 

He couldn’t recall right then if he’d ever noticed a building in the park like this one before. Though the pristine white stone and dark curling ivy over the columns would be hard to miss.

 

The entire place was fascinating already from the outside! All this before he'd even stepped inside, without hesitation, he hurried up the steps to an intricately decorated archway and pushed aside the leafy tendrils of ivy over the entryway and walked in.

 

He was greeted with the sight of hundreds of lit white candles dotted about the room some nearly completely melted while others looked as though just freshly lit and yet, so far, there didn’t seem to be anyone else around.

 

His eyes roamed the room taking in more and more as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. There may have been candles but the place was so intensely dark, even the light they gave off seemed to be sucked into the darkness. There was a stone platform at the back covered in fresh cut flowers, and more candles, and as he moved toward it he noticed coins glittering under the golden light of the flames.

He faltered for a moment and wondered if he was trespassing during a sacred moment.

 

Nothing made a sound as Bard stood waiting and listening for any minute sound that may give away there was someone with him. After a moment or two of silence, Bard figured he was alone and proceeded to wander over to the platform.

 

It was set up more like a stage, there were 3 stone steps up to the platform itself and there were 4 exposed beams set up in a square above it, a golden hand censer hung above swaying lightly while incense smoke poured from it, though Bard felt inexplicable terror at the fact the thing was swinging in a non-existent breeze.

 

One of the steps had a brass plaque set into the stone, not unlike some points of interest that cities often had to commemorate a moment in history.

 

This one simply said:

 

State your wish.

A deep hearts desire.

Symbolise your worship.

A gift of thanks.

Pray to this God.

Or Beg.

 

Ominous.

 

Though it took no time for Bard to realise that this was all very likely a tourist trap rather than an actual temple built to praise an ancient God. Even if it was all awe-inspiring, it seemed a waste as there did not appear to be many visiting.

 

Still, he couldn’t deny that the place was beautiful and he surveyed the room again. It wasn’t huge, absolutely not big enough for any sort of Sunday congregation, so he assumed it was something more in line with Pagan worship. His eyes drifted up towards the ceiling, there were long thin stained glass windows high above him letting in very little light, though with what sun that managed to shine through he could see scenes depicted as just like any place of worship he had seen before- well more reminiscent of Christian places of worship but still…

 

Oddly enough, he didn’t recognise the scenes, nor the Gods or people immortalised in the striking colours above him- but then he wasn’t well read on any one religion, and to some, it could have been ridiculously obvious who and what this was all about.

 

Regardless, the glass was beautiful, and Bard found himself staring up at a blue-eyed gaze for quite some time- such an engaging face for something created out of glass and metallic salts.

 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to humour whoever built this and say a prayer. My life can’t get any worse.” His voice was a whisper, this whole place filled him with a trembling sort of dread as though his soul knew something he did not and a shudder shook through him.

 

An offering, if he wanted the God to even consider his words Bard would need to leave an offering of some sort. There were plenty of flowers already-- he didn’t really have anything that could be classed as an offering, after all, who came out for the day prepared to leave a gift to an ancient God?

 

Digging around in his pockets he found the spare change he’d left with that morning, it wasn’t much, but surely it was something. Something was always better than nothing… sometimes.

 

Without any further hesitation, Bard moved away from the steps back toward the platform itself, he dropped the coins onto the dusty stone before him.

 

The clattering sound of metal on stone echoed around the room. Bard jolted back at the jarring sound as it broke the reverent silence of the temple, his body tense as he waited as though the noise could wake the God and it would appear terrible and wrathful before him.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Candles flickered around him as he moved away from the offering stone, his eyes moved to the stained glass momentarily before his gaze shifted to the walls- ah! Another plaque- this one was set into the wall adjacent to the platform.

 

Bard navigated his way through the candles until he was close enough to read the sign.

 

Temple of the Forest Guardian.

Thranduil the Benevolent.

God of the Greenwood and protector of all within his realm.

 

The sole ruler of the vast and beautiful forest known as the Greenwood. Thranduil lived to serve and protect his people and all manner of living creatures that resided within his realm.

 

So well loved was he that upon his death the Gods of his people gifted him with eternal life and a magic to ease the suffering of many. When he awoke his people were overjoyed, and they lived for many years in the peaceful land.

 

Over time the numbers of his people dwindled this left the God to care for the forests alone with nought to speak with, only that which could not speak in return.

 

How many times had Bard read a story like this?

 

“Still a lonely life for a God- having eternal life and watching your people die from old age…” It was horrible and would drive anyone mad with grief.

 

It was only then that Bard realised how cold it was despite the myriad of candles that haloed him in a golden light. While shivering, Bard made the decision to offer a prayer and a wish- like his earlier thoughts, there was nothing more he could lose from trying.

 

Back at the platform Bard arranged the coins taking care not to touch the stone itself, he felt as though it was only polite not to touch anything that did not belong to him.

 

With a deep breath, he stood tall and uttered a prayer in an awe-filled whisper.

 

“Guardian of the forest, here my words… uh… I gave an offering so that you might not be lonely, I wish the same for myself. Help me find the right path and lead me to love and wealth. Thank you.” It was startling how right it felt to say such things, and how little embarrassment he experienced as he spoke. His wish had been for love and, but honestly, he just wanted someone there with him.

 

His divorce had been, thankfully, smooth and relatively pain-free aside from having to come to terms with the fact his wife wanted a quick divorce so she could marry another.

 

There were no ill feelings for his wife in Bard’s heart, he did not want to stand in the way of love and what they had was true love. It was just that he was now alone and at that moment he was painfully aware of it, growing up and getting married was what he wanted and not once had he ever imagined being prepared to lose that- you cannot prepare yourself for that.

He remained in the dark temple for some time lost in thought letting the incense soak into his clothes and letting the candles bathe him in their light- it was such a beautiful place, but he had to leave.

 

The light of the day would fade eventually and navigating through the dark woodland with only a phone light was not on his list of fun ideas for the summer. Secretly, he admitted to himself that wandering through the woods at night scared him, the sound of twigs snapping metres behind him when he had been sure he was alone just screamed horror movie.

 

With that thought in mind, Bard pushed himself to leave and stepped back into the clearing, the sun still fought to break through the canopy above him and Bard had to shield his eyes as he glanced up noting the sun was still high in the sky.

 

Birds sang from tree branches, the chorus a sweet and beautiful sound but jarring after the silence of the temple. His senses were overwhelmed by the outside world, so he took a minute to collect himself.

 

The rest of his day went by without incident, he headed out to his delivery job later that evening and eventually fell into bed just after midnight irritated by what life threw at him.

 

\---------------------

 

It was the smell of coffee that woke him later that morning. The alluring aroma forced him to open his eyes, he was greeted with the white ceiling of his bedroom above him.

 

Imaging the taste of coffee helped him fight off the last vestiges of sleep as he sat up stretching out his back to ease the ache of having a terrible and cheap mattress.  

 

It was odd though, Bard didn’t remember buying any coffee recently- he was fresh out of cash for that luxury because like an idiot he left it at that tourist trap temple the day before.

 

Whoever had made coffee in his apartment- THERE WAS SOMEONE IN HIS APARTMENT!

 

Bard shot out of bed and bolted down the hall to the kitchen, he skidded to a halt at the threshold and stared at the stranger who was stood holding a Starbucks cup looking decidedly unimpressed by his surroundings.

 

In a split second their eyes were on Bard, and the cup was offered out to him.

 

WHAT THE FUCK?!

 

They didn’t speak Bard took this opportunity to try and organise his thoughts into some semblance of coherent, it wasn’t going well. A strange man was stood in his kitchen offering him coffee, a strange man with startling bright eyes and white blond hair… a strange, and handsome man.

 

Realising that he was staring openly at the trespasser, Bard lowered his eyes but not before he caught the blond smirking at him. Anger finally boiled up along with the courage to speak and look at the stranger, however as he opened his mouth he was instantly cut off as the home invader spoke.

 

“Pitiful offering for this day and age but it was enough to buy a mocha if you want it?” Bard hadn’t expected the man’s voice to be so deep and smooth. So taken aback by the sound of it he momentarily forgot his anger and stood wide-eyed and if not a little bit stirred up.

 

“Who the Hell are you and how did you even get in here?!” He’d found his voice again, though it was difficult not to shriek and in stifling such his words came out weirdly garbled all the while he stayed rooted to the spot by the kitchen door that led back into the hallway.

 

An escape route?

 

“They always ask how I got in and not why I came in the first place. Honestly, humans never change. I do not know why I assume they ever will…” The blond spoke quietly as though speaking to another out of view.

 

Bard hoped with all that he was that there was no other there and that he was not outnumbered.

 

The odd way he spoke, referring to people as humans- what did he mean by that?

 

The stranger offered out the coffee again slowly tilting from left to right as though trying to coax a small animal from a hole. Bard frowned, and yet he stepped further into the kitchen and took the still warm cup.

 

Every instinct within him screamed for him not to drink from the cup, his last act of self-preservation failed, and he took a sip. It was what the man had said it’d be… a mocha from Starbucks.

 

This seemed to please the stranger as he moved from behind the counter that had once separated them. Bard watched wearily as the last barrier between them was removed. He was approached by the blond though he didn’t appreciate having to look up a little, so they were, somewhat, eye to eye.

 

Bard reflexively took a step back.

 

“Allow me to introduce myself as you seem worryingly unaware of who I am.”

 

“You’re a madman that broke into my house to give me coffee.”

 

The snappy response from Bard left the other laughing aloud and beamed down at the burnet as though he was the sun and Bard felt a blush creep up his neck.

 

Beautiful laugh, beautiful hair, beautiful eyes… urgh.

 

Pushing aside such thoughts Bard ignored the panic rising in his chest and continued to challenge the man by looking him in the eye unflinchingly.

 

“Well, you were the one that invited me to help you. You invited me in and asked me to help you with your wish, did you not?”

 

Silence fell around them as Bard let those words sink in, oh how smug they sounded, his stomach felt like ice… was this the God he had prayed to yesterday?

 

“Are you…. Thranduil?” No, he couldn’t be because Gods were not real and that temple was just a joke for park-goers to enjoy ‘discovering’ while out with their kids!

 

“Guardian of the forest and all within it, a pleasure to meet you, Bard.” That velvety tone again- wait, how long had he been in his apartment if he had had time to snoop around and find out his name?!

 

If he was a God, he didn’t need to check someone’s mail to know their name. Bard felt as though his legs would give away without a seconds notice as he tried in vain to make sense of anything that was happening.

 

“Shall we speak on why I am here?” Thranduil asked gently he put a hand to Bard’s shoulder and steered him to a chair at the tiny dining area in his kitchen and made him sit down. “You asked me to help you, you’re looking for wealth and love- but ah, before I forget, I must thank you that regardless of your wish you included me in your thoughts. While it does feel as though your thought was born from pity, I shall not look a gift horse in the mouth or whatever the saying is…” He trailed off and watched as Bard silently assessed his situation; there was a far off look in his eyes, and Thranduil found him strangely charming.

 

Meanwhile, Bard was using the power of repression to stomp down the gay panic that was steadily rising every time Thranduil spoke to him. It took a lot for him to steady his racing thoughts, and for a moment Bard believed he could very well still be dreaming; if it hadn’t been for the warmth of the drink still in his hand, he could have believed he was still sleeping soundly in his awful bed.

 

“I-if you’re that Thranduil guy, aren’t you unable to leave the forest, how are you here?” It had just slipped out and Bard he was quite surprised at himself for remembering such a small detail.

 

“I appear ready to grant you your heart's desire and you come out with this?!” Thranduil sounded tired as he spoke and just a little bit unimpressed at the question, and yet, with an overly dramatic flourish the God produced a map from thin air and spread it out over the table and gestured for Bard to lean in to get a better look.

 

He pointed a long pale finger at a spot on the map at the edge of what should have been the city park and gave Bard a pointed look.

 

“My temple, you see there in that large area of greenery?” His tone sounding incredibly patronising as his finger pressed harder at the spot on the map, he was definitely a little peeved with Bard but he kind of had right too.

Bard studiously forgot that the map had literally just appeared from nothing in front of his very eyes and instead looked at the spot with a nod- he had to avoid Thranduil’s pale blue gaze… there was something so otherworldly about it as though he had seen everything and had to endure it in silence for eternity.

 

It was frightening and thrilling all at once. Inwardly his mind was yelling for him to leg it out of the door and not look back until he was far, far away and yet he remained in his seat.  

 

“Great, now can you see this point on the map that is the forest, so much forest you can scarcely comprehend it, that is your house. So, now you can ask me how I am here.”

 

Bard had the decency to look sheepish before he spoke eyes still on the map.

 

“You never left the forest, even if the trees are no longer there it would still be your forest, right?” He felt awful because humans were definitely the reason the once vast forest was now stuffed into the corner of a city park and fenced in wrought iron. “Sorry…” He mumbled.

 

For a split second Thranduil looked genuinely touched at Bard’s apology though it didn’t last long and his expression turned grim as he turned to look back down at the map. It was a long time before he spoke again and when he did his voice was quiet and impossibly sad.

 

“I don’t know how you found the temple… I had thought it was hidden away well enough that humans would pass right by it and it would remain unseen, I know that defeats the object of helping others, but when those people want power, and I gave it, I found my forest getting smaller and smaller.

 

In the end, I sealed away the temple to save the forest, to protect it and yet… somehow you found it and, well, I am glad you did.” He said nothing more and the map faded into nothingness while Bard sipped his drink and Thranduil stared at the table top.

 

“You’re glad I came and dropped some pocket change in offering and asked for romance?” It truly sounded funny when put like that and Thranduil smiled to himself before he huffed out a quiet laugh.

 

“You’re the first person is a long time who came in gave an offering, made your wish and didn’t touch anything. You took in the room and appreciated it before leaving.”

 

“You like to keep things simple, I see.”

 

“Well, when you get to be as old as I am you enjoy things being simple, you know; quiet worship, incense… Starbucks.”

 

“So why did you buy me coffee, the offering was for you, this should be your drink.” Bard set the near-empty cup down on the table and watched as Thranduil gestured to a trash can, another cup lay innocently on top of a badly folded up pizza box.

 

“I had other stops on my way before I got to you. Plus, I thought it would help in getting you to trust me if I came bearing a gift of coffee, human’s love this stuff early in the morning and you seem to be of no exception to this observation.”

 

Well, that was fair, it was true. Bard craved coffee all the time it was clearly an addiction, but this one was, for some reason, socially acceptable.

 

He offered Thranduil a shrug as if to say ‘I don’t know what to tell you.’.

 

“Anyhow, we’re deviating from the actual reason I am here. As the God Thranduil, I am here to grant your wishes and your desires.” If he had been expecting whoops of adoration from someone he was in for a shock, however, Bard couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed by the man. He was also horrified at how easily he had accepted that this man was a God with just some sleight of hand magic anyone could do.

 

Bard found him genuinely charming, he was well spoken and transparent in his reasoning for certain actions and open about his past, there was the coffee too, that helped a lot. If this had been a first date, Bard would be smitten - a date with a woman! NOT a man… no not a man- not this man.

 

With a jerky motion Bard slapped his hand to his chest over his frantically beating heart and took a deep breath hoping to calm himself down.

 

“So, you’re going to help me find a girlfriend?”

 

“Or boyfriend.” Came the pointed reply.

Bard flushed nearly scarlet. “Ah, no, just girlfriend.”

 

“I see, so you cannot look me in the eye because…?”

 

“I wished for a girlfriend, so I get a girlfriend.”

 

“Actually, you wished for romance. Just so you know, I cannot make people fall in love with you, I can set you up in an ideal situation to meet someone, this does not necessarily mean it would be a woman…” Thranduil offered the burnet an innocent smile and shrugged though it didn’t seem to calm the other down. “Well, this seems like a touchy subject so let us move on, and we can have a chat about wealth. This is easily done, but some specifics on how you would like it to happen would be welcome. A mysterious windfall cannot just be explained away by saying you were lucky enough to win the lottery. It also depends on how rich you want to be.”

 

“That’s the thing,” Bard exclaimed as he turned in his seat, so he was fully facing the God. “I don’t want to be a millionaire or anything. I want a job that pays well enough for me to get out of this apartment and enough so that the courts will allow me to see my kids for more than a few hours a week.” His emotions were seesawing from one to another, the excitement building in him was tempered by nerves and just how this man was going to help him pull this off without causing a stir.

 

“The thing I want more than anything is to be a teacher, to use my degree in art and history and help kids learn. I know it seems strange to say I want to teach and not be in a teaching job with all the listing- there's a bloody outcry for teachers, but I just can’t catch a break my interviews are always awful- urgh, that’s only if I actually get one!”

 

Thranduil was stunned at just how alive Bard became when he spoke about teaching when he spoke about living his life. This man wanted to get out of a rut and give something to the world, even if it was small he wanted to educate people and people with a good education could change the world.

 

This man inadvertently told him he wanted to change the world.

 

“I can help you with that; get you set up with a nice private school job or just any teaching job and who knows, you could end up meeting someone there.” It was easy for Bard to accept Thranduil’s words as he was saying everything he wanted to hear, that and he was happy just to have someone that wanted to help even if nothing came of it.

 

The phone on the countertop began ringing and Bard dove across the room grabbing the receiver from the cradle; when he looked back, Thranduil had gone leaving no sign he had ever been there besides the Starbucks cups.

 

\----------------

 

His ex-wife had called explaining that Sigrid was unwell, too unwell to go to school and she needed someone to take care of her while everyone was out at work. Bard readily agreed and headed over as soon as the call ended.

 

On the drive over he had time to think on all that had happened that morning, how his life could change for the better. Also, how he had to do some soul searching and some internet research because the feelings that beautiful God stirred up could not be contained and Bard did not like it one bit.

 

He would leave things be for now. There were more precious issues to deal with like his sick daughter and the time he would get to spend with her that day.

 

Sigrid crawled into the back of the car in her pyjamas wrapped in a blanket she brought from her room. Bard felt awful for her, she was pale and sluggish barely able to keep her eyes open as she greeted him before lying over the back seat.

 

Driving home was slow going but when they did get to the apartment Bard set Sigrid up on the sofa and propped her up with pillows and wrapped her up in another blanket. Keeping her warm was a priority now he had to try and get her to eat.

 

She had already dozed off so Bard took the opportunity to pop out and grab a can of chicken noodle soup, it had always been her favourite when she was sick and he hoped it would still be her favourite so that he could entice her to eat.

 

When he returned to the apartment can of soup in hand he paused in the hall, there was a familiar voice coming from the lounge, a very deep and velvety voice that Bard had grown accustomed to all too quickly.

 

Sticking his head around the door he found Thranduil sat on the floor by the sofa reading to Sigrid, her attention solely on him as he read aloud from a book of old fairy stories Bard had kept from when she was small.

 

Bard knew he should have been furious that Thranduil had broken into his home again but he could see Sigrid was comforted by the story and it allowed him to make the soup without worrying she might need him for something.

 

Thranduil was gone when Bard returned with the soup, he didn’t mention him and he refused to address the feeling of disappointment that the God had left again without even speaking to him.

 

“Da, that man that was here…” Her voice was rough from all the coughing but it didn’t stop the apparent tone of curiosity coming through as she eyed him between bites of her soup, which he urged her to continue eating. If she was eating she wasn’t asking questions about Thranduil that he may not be able to answer.

 

“That man that was here,” Bard repeated quietly, his gaze not meeting his daughters as he studied his hands intently-- so few words from her and yet he felt he was on trial.

 

“I’ve never heard you speak about him before, he said you were friends, how did you meet him?” There it was, the question he had been dreading because he couldn’t lie to her because he was terrible at it, she would see right through him.

 

“Yeah, new friend. Nice guy, we met recently he’s doing me a huge favour.”

 

“What kind of favour?”

 

Did she have to sound so suspicious?!

 

“He’s helping me get a job.” It wasn’t a lie but he left it very bare of any further detail, and he hoped it was enough to sate her curiosity.

 

When he looked over she was already falling asleep again and he caught the empty soup bowl before it fell from her hands. Well, that was one way to avoid answering any questions.

 

He got up making sure to tuck Sigrid in properly before heading to the kitchen to wash up. Bard half expected Thranduil to be there when he entered the kitchen but there was no trace of him.

 

In fact, he didn’t see Thranduil again for three days.

 

Eventually, Bard became impatient and went to the temple leaving a bottle of wine he bought using tip money from his job.

 

Setting the bottle down on the platform Bard spoke his prayer, which was far less elegant than last time.

 

“So, Thranduil are you still going to help me, I really need to know if you can or not because I’m seriously concerned I just let a madman into my home and believed he could grant fantastical wishes. Anyway, enjoy the wine.” With that, he left and headed out to his delivery job- job was a job even if he wasn’t pleased about it.

 

Midway through his shift, his phone buzzed and several text messages came through at once.

 

[UNKNOWN] *green faced emoji* This wine is terrible!

 

[UNKNOWN] How much was this?! An awful offering you should be ashamed.

 

[UNKNOWN] *cry face emoji* I know I am being ungrateful but it’s so awfuuuull!!

 

There could be only one person texting him like this, and with a sigh, Bard began composing a reply. Before he could even start typing another set of messages came through.

 

[UNKNOWN] Your prayer was lacking the reverence it held the first time. Also I am absolutely offended you questioned my power.

 

[UNKNOWN] IN ANY CASE!!! I am helping you, things take time, Bard! *Tongue sticking out emoji*

 

Supposedly, he was to trust this man…

 

With a shrug, Bard pocketed his phone then had a near-fatal heart attack when a pale hand smacked the driver’s side window.

 

“I cannot believe you just ignored my messages!”

 

Thranduil.

 

Winding down the window Bard gave an apologetic smile while Thranduil huffed and puffed about being ignored for a little while longer.

 

“You want me to apologise for being too poor to buy you good wine?”

 

“...No… but a response would have been nice. No wonder you’re so unlucky in love, is this how you treat all the texts you receive?” The fact that Thranduil could and did text was far too funny to Bard and he burst into peals of laughter. Eventually, he calmed down and leaned out of the car window a little.

 

“You’re genuinely the first person to text me in months, sorry.”

 

Thranduil didn’t respond, his expression was soft now, and his eyes seemed filled with a sadness that had been harboured within him for thousands of years. For a moment Bard saw the God searching for something, perhaps words to ease the tense feeling that now surrounded them or an excuse to leave him…

 

“Can I get in?” The blond asks quietly, he waits for Bard to nod before walking around the car and climbing into the passenger seat having to nearly fold himself in half to seat himself properly.

 

Feeling generous Bard leaned over Thranduil as best he could, his chest against the other’s legs as he did so, and pulled the lever that pushed the seat back. Once it was far enough back for Thranduil to unfold himself Bard sat up and started the car.

 

“Let’s drive and you can tell me what you have planned for me.” He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, and his blood roaring in his ears. Nothing was alright, nothing was fine because he was very aware of how attractive he found Thranduil but he had no idea how to handle such feelings.

 

“Ah…” Thranduil stalled a moment and Bard was surprised to see him looking pink-cheeked and, somewhat, flustered as they slowly slid under street lamps that lined the roads into the centre of town. “Send off an application to the school of your choice, all will work out there without a hitch.  Are you not more interested in finding this one true love of yours?”

 

That stopped Bard short. He couldn’t lie, he hadn’t thought about it since he last spoke to Thranduil; so lost in the idea of getting a job it seemed romance had fallen by the wayside.

 

Was he still looking for love?

 

When the wish was uttered he had been feeling hopeless and lonely, but with Thranduil popping up at random times he found that he was not so sad about being alone. The fact he would be getting a job soon; would he even have time for romance?

 

“Let’s just focus on getting me a job, you said yourself I might meet someone there.” He tried to brush the subject under the carpet as casually as he could. There had to be something else he could talk about- Thranduil.

 

The God probably never got to talk about himself.

 

“So, I know my daughter could see you but are you ever only able to be seen by the person making the wish?” Was he visible to only himself right now, was Bard driving along in his car talking to himself?

 

“I can’t do that invisible to everyone but one thing, I am either visible to all or I am not.”

 

“So you just walk around dressed like that all the time?” Bard asks gesturing to the long white robes Thranduil was currently wearing, they were beautiful but they made him stand out in a crowd. “As if you need another reason for people to be staring at you.” These words were spoken under his breath but oh Thranduil had heard them and how his face glowed and a slow smile began to form on his lips almost feline his bright eyes on Bard.

 

“Oh ho, what sweet words you do whisper to me, where did this bravado come from?” There was a purr in the blond’s voice, that smug purr when an ego was stroked without prompting.

 

Bard kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut, lips tightly sealed as he mentally scolded himself-- he had to reign himself in that comment had slipped out and for a hot second Bard wondered if it had even been him that had spoken. Of course, it had been but it had just come so naturally… flirting with this man should not have come so easily to him.

 

Though, he supposed it was good practise for when he met the woman that could potentially be his future wife.

 

If he could stomach the idea of marriage again.

 

It was the least appealing act he could imagine in that current point of his life, he did not want a replay of his first marriage.

 

It wasn’t all bad but heartache takes a long time to heal and Bard had never quite forgotten the feel of it, even if it was just the ghost of an ache in his chest now.

 

Bard pulled up outside of the pizza place and cut the engine, Thranduil was looking out of the passenger side window but he looked back toward Bard when he realised they’d stopped moving. Nothing was said about their conversation not minutes before, Thranduil had the good sense to drop the sound of crowing joy from his voice when he spoke again.

 

“The girl that works at the counter likes you… a lot.” They both looked over toward the pizza place, they could see a red-headed woman at the counter, well, she was barely in her 20’s and Bard’s insides squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of dating her.

 

“She’s 20 years old or something, I’m 37 that’s...  Thranduil, she’s a baby.”

 

“Ahaha, do not get the wrong idea. I meant only that you are desirable to many, the woman at your local supermarket that works the help desk, she thinks you’re utterly fantastic. The point I am making is that- I know you are hesitant about being with another person and that you believe yourself to be the bottom of everyone’s list but you’re not.

 

You’re the hero of your own story and the heartthrob in someone else’s. While you see yourself as…” He pauses as though trying to find the right words, “Oh how would you put it, ah yes! While you see yourself as a dork- yes, I think that’s right, other’s see you as sophisticated and even sexy.” Bard almost choked on air when Thranduil referred to him as sexy, though a wheezing and awkward laugh followed as he tried in vain to brush the comment off as nothing.

 

“I need to get back to work, but you keep talking utter nonsense about me while I deliver pizzas. I am up for a laugh tonight.” He exited the car while Thranduil frowned after him though he did not move from his seat and only watched Bard hurry into work to grab a stack of pizza boxes all ready to deliver.

 

They spent the night together delivering pizzas, Thranduil made a habit of coming to the door with Bard so they could continue their conversations, it resulted in Bard being tipped more than usual which he was thankful for even if he was not absolutely enamoured with the fact that Thranduil so was damned smug about it.

 

“I’ve still got it.” The blond stretched out in the car arching his back like a cat as much as he could in the cramped space, “I mean, I there was never a time I was ever led to believe I had lost it, but still tonight proves I am eye candy to ladies and gents in this day and age.” He glanced over at Bard as he said the word ‘gents’ but Bard was too busy checking his phone for more delivery requests.

 

“Go home, Bard. You need sleep and don’t forget to apply for the teaching job, I can’t help you if you do not meet me halfway.”

 

“Fine, fine, I suppose I can call it a night. The sheer amount of tips because…” He loathed to say it but pushed through even while Thranduil smirked victoriously, “...because you were around all night means I can go home early.”

 

“Hmm, it sounds good to hear you admit that.”

 

Thranduil vanished before Bard got home which was perfectly fine with him as he hadn’t really wanted that awkward goodbye with him, how did you ask a God to leave so you could get some sleep?

 

Thranduil had probably just known. In any case, he had been the one that insisted he go home and sleep.

 

\------------------

 

Bard took it easy the next week, he filled out the job application online and sent it off as soon as he could then paced his kitchen floor for an hour fretting about the whole thing nearly calling out for Thranduil.

 

If he called would he come?

 

In the event that he truly needed the man he could just text him but once he had the job of his dreams would the blond retreat back into the shadows and close himself off from the human world?

 

Would he remain unheard once he had gotten all he had wanted from Thranduil?

 

What did Thranduil want in return for offering him a new life on a plate?

 

\---------------

 

The call regarding the teaching job came late Friday afternoon. A meeting was scheduled for Monday morning and Bard had never felt such a seesawing of emotions as he hung up the phone.

 

An interview.

 

The opportunity to teach again. It had been so long since he had stood at the front of a classroom, the thought of teaching groggy teenagers in the mornings and trying to grasp their attention, it was a thrill and a challenge Bard absolutely needed and wanted.

 

Maybe an offering to the God he owed this to would bring him luck.

 

He tapped out a text asking if Thranduil was around.

 

The response was immediate.

 

[Thran] I might be…

 

[Thran] What do you need?

 

The tone came across as cold though he may have just been busy or Bard was reading way too into the message and it actually was just neutral because most of the time texts had no tone without some emojis or text speak.

 

[Thran] Don’t keep a man waiting!!

 

[Bard] Sorry!! You don’t have to be so impatient. I was worried I was bothering you.

 

[Thran] *Roll eye emoji* Doing what exactly? I’ve had no friends for 300 years.

 

[Bard] Okaaayy. I just wanted to know if I had to leave you an offering at the temple or if you would just prefer to come pick it up?

 

[Thran] …

 

[Thran] What do you have for me?

 

[Bard] You only seem interested when I have something for you.

 

[Bard] I’m joking. I was just going to cook for you, if you'd like that?

 

“Well, with an offer that generous how could I stay away?” The sarcastic drawl came from a spot very close behind Bard and he clenched his hands into fists as though it would stop his heart from beating right out of his chest.

 

“Can’t you at least try and walk through the door like a normal person?” Bard moaned as he turned to face the God. He was greeted by the blond in a relatively modern-looking outfit, his hair was in a long thick braid over one shoulder away from his face for once.

 

The clothing was what caught Bard’s eye, black jeans showing just how damned long Thranduil’s legs were paired with what looked like a very soft cashmere jumper in a dark forest green.

 

It was then Bard had to come to terms with the fact he was ridiculously attracted to the blond, though admitting it to himself would be as far he would go… could go. It didn’t seem feasible or even remotely possible that anything would come from this attraction.

 

Just more questions to keep me up at night… Bard offered Thranduil a crooked smile and gestured for him to take a seat at the tiny dining table.

 

“You look good, you suit a more modern look, is this you trying something new to bring in potential worshippers?” Bard moved around the kitchen grabbing ingredients from the fridge and a cutting board from the cupboard, when he looked over to Thranduil for an answer he found Thranduil sat staring at the table top looking very troubled.

 

“Are you ok?”

 

“Once you get your job teaching, I think it is best I no longer visit you, Bard.” His tone was resolute and while Bard wanted to argue he resisted. If this was to be how it was who was he to argue?

 

Hasn't that always been the case?

 

He had left offerings for this God to help him and then once the job was done he would leave. The problem was that now he thought about it he didn’t really like the idea of not seeing Thranduil again.

 

There would be nothing you could do to convince him… just agree and let him have his own way. There was a heavy feeling of unease in his stomach but he nodded set down the knife he had been holding.

 

“All right, if that is how it has to be.” Being in agreement with Thranduil left a tight feeling in his chest and he found he wasn’t really hungry any more. “Kind of putting a damper on dinner though.” At his words Thranduil stood up from the table he gave Bard a curt nod.

 

“Yes, I shall take my leave now. I hope you have everything you want now, Bard. It has been an experience getting to know you and your life. I am… I’m going to miss you. In the short time I’ve known you I have not laughed so much. Your company has truly been appreciated. Please, promise me that no matter how much you think you need to, do not look for me.” With that he vanished leaving Bard well and truly alone for the first time in 2 weeks.

 

“Well, fuck.”

 

\-----------------

 

The interview was a breeze and Bard started his job the following week. He was given an office and his own classroom.

 

The students were a boisterous lot but Bard found them all charming and brilliant in their own ways, even the troublemakers had won him over with their inventive backtalk. All in all, he loved it-- he was in love with his job and he finally felt he was taking a step forward in life rather than treading water.

 

Not only was working going great, but he also had someone take an interest in him, one of the admin staff at the school had asked him for coffee, it was casual but Bard definitely got the feeling it had been considered a date.

 

While he was genuinely ecstatic that someone wanted to get to know him and for there to be a chance of romance something didn’t feel right. Lydia was beautiful, pretty grey eyes and golden blonde hair that hung in natural curls down to her shoulders. Her smile was as sweet as her laugh but it didn’t nothing for him.

 

Some nights Bard would lie in bed staring up at the ceiling as car headlights from the street below threw shadows across his room, he would grip the bed sheets with both hands and force himself to think of something… anything… memories or even the day's events, just something to plug up the emptiness he felt inside.

 

What was wrong with him?!

 

After weeks of suffering through the ache of loneliness Bard made the conscious decision to break his promise to Thranduil and he headed out to the park to find the temple. He brought no offering only a quiet sort of fury he hadn’t realised he had been holding on to.

 

\-----------------

 

The sun was already low when Bard entered the park. Most people were packing their things away to leave, and no one seemed to notice a man in a shirt and tie heading for the woodland area at the back.

 

The trees felt oppressively close as Bard tried to find his way through them, even on the pathway he felt as though they were closing in on him, a warning for him to turn back but the warning went unheeded and the brunet pushed on with more purpose than before.

 

It felt as though it took an age to find the clearing again, and when he did Bard glanced up at the tree canopy to see the sky between the branches had faded from gold and orange to lilac and blue, the inky dark of the night slowly rolling in above him with no regard to the world below it.

 

Without any further distractions Bard entered the temple and was confronted by a furious looking Thranduil stood among the candles, they flickered violently as Bard entered the building, but it was the look on Thranduil’s face that stilled him.

 

Had he made a mistake?

 

“I told you not to do this, why can’t you just trust me?” For all the fury on his face, Thranduil’s voice was quiet no ire in his voice only sheer exhaustion. “Why couldn’t you have just gotten on with your life instead of haunting mine?!”

 

The stunned silence fell over them almost immediately and for a second Bard couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat, after a moment or two the roar of blood in his ears returned and brought him back to Earth.

 

Gods, he hurt, more than he had expected to when coming to the temple but Thranduil had sounded wounded and scared more than angry and Bard knew he couldn’t leave until he got to the bottom of the God’s odd behaviour.

 

“I wanted to see you, don’t I get to ask why you suddenly cut off all communication?”

 

“Why would you think I would tell you anything, do you think we’re friends?” Scathing, words intended to cut deep but Bard pressed on, he wasn’t leaving until he absolute knew Thranduil wanted nothing more to do with him for the rest of eternity.

 

“We could be friends-- what are you afraid of?”

 

The temple was plunged into darkness as every candle went out leaving Bard effectively blind, there was no time for him to let his eyes adjust to the dark, trusting his sense of direction he moved forward with confident strides one hand reaching out until it connects with the soft fabric of Thranduil’s robe.

 

“Answer me, why can’t we be friends?”

 

“Don’t… Bard, please.” The blond begged desperately a warm hand covered Bard’s as he pried open the burnet’s fingers releasing the fabric. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.” His voice shook as though fighting back intense emotions but Bard didn’t move and instead he grabbed the front of Thranduil’s robe again keeping a connection while still unable to make out the other in the pitch black.

 

“Is it… because I’m human?” The question came out a whisper, it was entirely possible that Thranduil had tried to hurt him to spare himself the pain of losing a friend to death. It didn’t make him feel any better knowing this could be the reason.

 

“Oh, Bard. Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone?” A pained response though there was a tired sort of exasperation colouring his tone, “But yes, I stopped seeing you because I realised how much I enjoyed your company and I could see you were fond of me. I was frightened to continue our friendship because I knew I’d lose you sooner or later.”

 

If Thranduil had not mentioned friendship it would have sounded like a confession of love, maybe he did love him but not in the way Bard thought he had… not in the way Bard had wanted him to.

 

“Fuck, I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have come here. I’ve made a mistake.” Hurried words as Bard released Thranduil at the same time moving back creating space between them, though the black void around them revealed nothing of how much space.

 

“I can’t fucking see… Thranduil I have to go. I’m sorry- having a friend like would have been great… I’m so sorry.” With that he stumbled back towards what looked to be the exit, the faint light clinging to the doorway showed him back out into the clearing.

 

Heaving air into his lungs Bard cursed himself under the stars before breaking out into a run into the darkness of the woods, he didn’t deviate from his path and soon he was back out in the open of the manicured grass lawns that were the city park.

 

A night shift security guard ushered him out and Bard flopped onto a bench on the street to gather his thoughts.

 

One thing he was positively sure of… He was definitely falling for Thranduil and Thranduil wanted nothing to do with him.

 

He couldn’t blame the God, Bard would age and die, he’d be a terrible friend regardless of how much he cared for him they just weren’t compatible. They couldn’t be friends, they couldn’t be anything and right then Bard wanted nothing more than to drain a bottle of wine.

 

So that’s what he did, on his walk home he stopped off at the store and bought a marginally better wine than the one he had given Thranduil then headed home and drank a bottle and a half of cheap red wine.

 

Strangely, it didn’t make him feel any better about the situation just regretful that he hadn’t fought to convince the God that they could continue to see one another. Bard was sure he could just be friend with Thranduil, this new found bisexuality was something he still had to learn about so taking things slow seemed the right idea… until he picked up his phone and started texting Thran.

 

[Bard] I bought better wine.

 

[Bard] Incase you r might be intrestd

 

[Bard] moght already be durnk

 

The room spun in a jerking fashion and Bard gripped his phone a little tighter in his hand just in case that would help- it didn’t but it was a valiant effort on his part.

 

The phone buzzed in his hand and Bard looked down to see a response to his messages.

 

[Thran] Stop drinking you’ll hurt yourself.

 

[Thran] Go to bed and sleep it off.

 

Giddy at the fact he’d enticed out a response out of the blond Bard set to responding, or at least he tried but the code on his phone was difficult to remember and being such a lightweight he was too drunk to realise that the code was literally 0000.

Eventually, after much cursing and many threats made to the device Bard managed to unlock it.

 

Another text had come through in the meantime.

 

[Thran] I’m sorry that things ended the way they did. You might be too drunk to read this properly and take it all in but… The reason I pushed you away is because…

 

[Thran] I am not doing this via text. Go to bed I will speak to you in the morning!

 

The sun shone bright and cheery into the lounge of Bard’s apartment and directly onto a now extremely groggy and hungover educator- his mouth felt like a desert and his head pounded feeling as though an elephant had tap danced on it all night.

 

Groaning he sits up still in his clothes from work the day before. Thankfully it was a blessed Saturday which meant Bard could suffer the consequences of his actions in relative peace. Well, that was until he padded into the kitchen the get water and he found Thranduil stood in the exact same place he had been when the first met.

 

Only this time he looked grim, was dressed like a modern man and was holding a glass of water out to Bard his eyes full of disapproval and smidge of sympathy.

 

“I thought seeing as I may have been the reason you got wasted drunk last night… it seemed only fair that I take care of your this morning.” Bard took the water but he winced as he moved and Thranduil looked mightily concerned when Bard went a shade paler than he had been before.

 

“Get into bed. I cannot believe how drunk you were ls night. You are so irresponsible!”

 

“I know, I know… you sound like my wife.” Bard joked as he hobbled down the hall holding his delicate body rigid as though that would save him from the never-ending waves of nausea that battered his entire being.

 

Never had he imagined that someone could feel sick right down to their toes, and yet here he was experiencing it with the least sympathetic man in all of creation standing over his bed with his arms crossed over his chest.

 

“Yes, well if I were you wife you’d not be in this state.” Thranduil’s retort came out harsh at first but by the end of his sentence his voice had softened and he was sitting on the edge of the bed brushing Bard’s hair, that was plastered to his forehead, off his face. “If we were married you probably wouldn’t be very happy.” There was something hesitant about the way he spoke as though he had dared to dream of something so domestic as being married to someone.

 

“Would I be unhappy?” The brunet questioned, he elaborated when Thranduil gave him a searching look as though trying to fathom what on earth he was talking about. “How could a man be unhappy looking at someone as beautiful as you every day knowing that he was married and that they felt the same?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bard. You don’t know what you’re saying, you must still be drunk.” The God scoffed brushing off the compliment though now his cheeks were a faint pink and he was busying himself with ensuring Bard was comfortable but somehow doing it without looking at him.

 

“Would it be ridiculous, if two people care for another why can’t they be together?”

 

“Therein lies the problem, dear Bard. Both people have to have the same feelings.” Thranduil explained simply.

 

Bard frowned.

 

“Don’t you care for me?”

 

“Of course I do, it’s you- oh…”

 

“Oh, what?” He sits up though it was a mistake to do so as the room did a lovely turn for him and his stomach flipped with appreciation, Bard enjoyed none of this. “Thranduil, oh what?”

 

Thranduil merely offered him a satisfied smile, he took a cleansing breath and forced Bard to lie down again all the while deftly removing the man’s tie to save him from choking while he recovered.

 

“Rest and get over this hangover, I will be here when you wake up.” Leaning down he pressed a soft kiss to Bard’s forehead when he didn’t get a reaction he sat up about to huff and puff that his gesture should have been a huge sign to the other man.

 

However, before the words could leave his mouth he noticed the other was already flat out asleep.

 

“You, sir, are an idiot, but stars do I love you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	25. Heavy Cross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi um... i LOVE your barduil fics and i was wondering if i could request a prompt for a fic were bard explains to thranduil and elrond why humans celebrate birthdays and not there begotten day was because humans can lose there baby before they are born and elves don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request a prompt on my Tumblr: 
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> Thanks :)

 

Heavy Cross

 

 

As well versed Thranduil believed he was regarding the lives of humans, there was still the odd bit of information that would take him by surprise.

 

Once upon a time, when his world was far smaller, Thranduil would merely brush aside any information he received concerning men. Human’s were of absolutely no interest to him and what they did and how they lived meant very little.

 

Now, however, it was different. Thranduil was older and, somewhat, wiser, and knew that the best way to truly understand someone was to ask them directly. Books could only do so much and at best elves could only truly speculate when it came to the humans they were now getting to know.

 

On this particular day, Bard was minding his own business, finally getting 5 minutes on his own to do some actual paperwork without an emissary interrupting him with news from either the dwarven or elven kingdom. All was well for the majority of his morning until…

 

The door to the study burst open and a, rather harried looking, elf strode in with a scroll gripped rightly in one hand the other hand still balled in a fist as though he had meant to knock on the door.

 

Bowing quickly the dishevelled elf hurried toward Bard’s desk,  after the king of Dale nodded his own greeting, and offered the scroll.

 

“My sincerest apologies for the intrusion, Your Majesty.” He was breathless, and Bard sat, scroll still sealed, looking up at the other with concern. Just as he was about to ask the elf to take a seat, they collapsed in the nearest chair to catch their breath.

 

Satisfied that the emissary was not about to keel over, Bard turned his attention to the scroll.

 

_ To the illustrious King of Dale, _

 

_ Forgive me for the sending this and leaving you with so little time… _

_ Lord Thranduil wishes an audience with you and will be riding out at the break of dawn this day to see you. _

 

_ Again, I apologise that this leaves you with the task of readying your palace for visitors on such little notice. _

 

_ Please be assured that I fought valiantly to have the king postpone his trip for a few days, but it was to no avail. _

 

_ If there is anything I can do once we arrive, you need but name it. _

 

_ Sincerely, Galion. _

 

Bard jumped from his seat cursing under his breath, that bloody- he glanced over to the emissary who genuinely looked terrified. It was probably best not to get too annoyed, after all, he always enjoyed seeing the blond, just didn’t really appreciate the fact he was probably already halfway into his journey here!

 

The messenger was left to recover while Bard grabbed the nearest of the royal house staff and gave her the bad news, she looked horrified at the time limit and yet sounded strangely confident when she told him not to worry and that everything will be perfect when the elven king arrived.

 

She was right.

 

Everything looked amazing, the royal staff were absolutely getting a gift of thanks for pulling out all the stops on this one. Bard had no idea how they did it, but he wasn’t going to spend time questioning them on it.

 

Thranduil arrived with his usual convoy, though as soon as he had dismounted from the extraordinarily large elk and had greeted Bard, he requested a meeting.

 

Assuming it was something of great importance Bard agreed and they headed to his study to discuss whatever it was that concerned the elf king.

 

The place was empty and tidy, the emissary had been moved to another room, far more comfortable than Bard’s study. He gestured for Thranduil to sit before taking his own seat.

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes, of course, I merely visit as a friend,” Thranduil responded airily as he reclined in his seat. Everything about his demeanour seemed relaxed leaving Bard more confused than ever.

 

“Right, so the purpose of this visit is to what… have a friendly chat?” The king of Dale queried all the while eyeing a stack of paperwork he knew he really should be doing.

 

Thranduil, and without the grace Bard usually equated with the elf, lurched forward hands now flat on the desk in front of him, his expression earnest as he uttered the next sentence.

 

“Why do humans celebrate the day they are birthed and not the day they were conceived?” The sentence was rushed, and Bard blinked several times as he processed the question. When he finally worked out what the elf had asked it took everything in him not to roll his eyes skyward as though this was, somehow, the fault of a higher power.

 

“Oh have mercy… Thranduil, what the bloody, are you talking about?”

 

“You don’t know either?”

 

“What- no! Of course, I know, but why did you march your entourage all the way here to ask me this... When You Could Have Sent A Letter.” Each word punctuated with frustration and mild confusion at the entire moment he had been forced to be a part of, all thanks to one overly curious blond elven king.

 

Gods, if he hadn’t been so busy with actual royal duties this all would have been ridiculously endearing because sometimes Thranduil was endearing. The childlike innocence he would sometimes display upon learning something about humans-- it could blow Bard away, and it often left him speculating on just how old Thranduil would be translated into human years.

 

Was Thranduil a young king?

 

“Could you at least answer my question after I made an effort to come and see you?”

 

“You really shouldn’t have, as wonderful as it is to see you, I feel awful that you’ve wasted your time like this,” Bard spoke through gritted teeth, but one look at Thranduil’s expression and he knew all too well that he would not drop the subject until he had an answer.

 

Stubborn, ridiculous and beautiful elf interrupting his paperwork… urgh.

 

“You could have asked any woman in my city this question. It didn’t have to be me.”

 

“It’s because you don’t know the answer, isn’t it? Bard, do not feel embarrassed. We cannot know everything about ourselves. They say knowledge is power, but they don’t say how much knowledge is power.” The blond consoled though it did little to help Bard in any way and he laughed dryly at Thranduil.

  
  


“I swear on all that is holy- yes, I know the answer, Thranduil. This is just something you ask in a letter or in passing when you are next scheduled to see me at some meeting.” Something inside him hoped that the reason the elf had come all this way was that he had just wanted to see him and not to ask a very simple question that could have been answered by a book.

 

Surely the elven king had an extensive library?

 

“Sometimes,” Bard began with a defeated sigh, “Humans are not able to carry a child to full term. Sometimes, for whatever reason, the child can die before it is born, that is why we celebrate their birth.” His gaze flicked over to the elf and his heart dropped, Thranduil looked devastated at this information, and he took several minutes to compose himself enough to so that the horror in his expression was no longer visible and he merely looked sorrowful.

 

“That is awful. It makes a lot of sense to wait before celebrating, and I apologise that I made you speak on such an upsetting situation.” The elf looked extremely uncomfortable as he spoke

 

“It’s fine, Thran. I’m just still a little vague on the particulars of why you came all the way here to ask me about this.”

 

“Don’t humans have the saying, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back?”

 

“How do you know that saying but do not know… nevermind, in any case, I’m happy to see you.”

 

“Of course you are.” Such a smug response but Bard let it slide, they had always enjoyed each others company, and regardless of the reason for meeting he always felt better when Thranduil was around.

 

“I hope I sated your curiosity, cat.” Thranduil arched a dark brow at Bard’s nickname but said nothing of it, though a small smile played at the corners of his mouth as though secretly pleased.

 

“For now, yes, I will always have more questions.”

 

“I will try to always answer them for you.”

 

“Bard, I love you.”

 

“I know, love, I know.”


	26. Someone New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ok so i hope u still take prompts? :) but how about something about an elven equivalent of fathers day? looove anything that involves tiny child legolas and thran interaction (bonus for bard and/or elrond cameos of course ;)) <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my Tumblr blog:
> 
> Fromeroicawithlove
> 
> Thanks :)

 

Someone New

 

In elven culture there was a day wherein the children would celebrate their parents, be it with physical gifts or words of love and appreciation, even if they only had one parent to celebrate… 

 

Legolas turned the scroll over several times in his little squishy hands before looking up at Elrond with doubt clear in his eyes, he was positive his ada would be too busy to spend the day with him, he probably wouldn’t even read the letter he’d written just for him!

 

They had spent the better part of the day keeping one another company while the king of Dale and his father spoke trading agreements in the study, all very boring and Elrond had offered to entertain the little blond while the ‘grown ups’ spoke about very dull things Legolas would have no interest in. Ever. 

 

The elfling had enlisted the help of Rivendell’s leader asking him to reach bottles of ink and quills that had purposely been set on a shelf high above Legolas. Elrond took great care in explaining how careful he must be with these things lest a mess is made, and it wouldn’t be his father who would be angry but those that must clean up the mess after him.

 

Together they composed a letter telling Thranduil how appreciated he was by the elfling and how he was happy that Thranduil was his Ada and not another. 

 

The writing was barely legible but Elrond was sure Thranduil would treasure the scroll as he would any gift he son gave him. 

 

A tense moment came in the form of mentioning his mother, and Legolas stilled, quill still in hand as his bottom lip quivered and he fought back tears. 

 

“It is alright to be sad, little one. Just remember one day you will see her again and then you can both be happy. 

 

You must live a full life so that you have many things to tell her.” Elrond spoke gently a hand rubbing the young elf's back to soothe-- Legolas sniffled in response before finally managing a nod to show he understood. 

 

“Ada get married again?” The blond's little voice almost hopeful. 

 

“That all depends on if your Ada believes his heart has healed enough to let another in.” Elrond leaned over and patted the elfling on the cheek, his soft baby face scrunched up but he did not move to stop the elder. “Though, you ought not to worry about such things at your age. Your ada has you, he can never be lonely if you are here.” Upon hearing Elrond’s comforting words, Legolas puffed out his chest with pride and nodded in agreement. His ada would never ever be without him because they were best friends and best friends never abandoned one another! 

 

While all that had been fun, now they were stood at the door of his father’s study and all intentions the youngster had of going in were destroyed by his own self doubt. 

 

Elrond urged him on and the youngster knocked softly on the door before pushing it open. 

 

The scene that greeted Legolas and Elrond was that of Bard and Thranduil their faces inches from one another's-- Bard's hand rested on the blond's waist the other gently brushing long pale locks away from his Ada's face.

 

They sprang apart when Elrond cleared his throat and Bard made to stammer out an explanation but Thranduil silenced him before crouching down so that he was face to face with his son beckoning him to him. 

 

The elfling had his back against Elrond who seems to be near holding him up as Legolas floundered wordlessly for a moment, his childlike mind trying desperately to grasp for words to convey his surprise and to question his Ada. 

 

After a long moment he raised a chubby hand and pointed at Bard and with a cheerful questioning tone he said…

 

“Ada… that Naneth?” 

 

There was a moment of dead silence where Thranduil could only close his eyes as though to compose himself, meanwhile Elrond made an effort to refrain from laughing to no avail and soon the adults were chuckling at the innocent question. 

 

“No, ion nin…” 

 

“Legolas, you have something for your father.” Elrond reminded and the elfling surged forward offering the scroll he had worked so very hard on. 

 

“You did this for me?” His Ada asks a smile forming as he unrolled the parchment to read the letter. “You are so very clever, thank you.” Thranduil pulls the boy into an embrace kissing the top of his head. 

 

Though the moment soon ended as Legolas wriggled out of Thranduil's arms, his attention back to Bard. 

 

“Bard is Ada?” 

 

He was truly relentless. 

 

 

 

 


	27. Switchback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard is quite famous and is staying at an equally famous hotel owned my Thranduil. Thran is a huge fan of Bard, so he "accidentally" bumped into Bard, since he just happens to now which floor he's on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request prompts on my tumblr blog: 
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> Thanks :)

Switchback

 

 

 

\-------------

 

Thranduil climbed out of his car with a tired huff.

 

He had received several frantic messages from his management team regarding an important guest that would be arriving that evening. Mostly garbled OMG’s and I can’t believe it’s along with the sound of house staff cleaning frantically in the background.

 

The Greenwood was a prestigious hotel and Spa situated in the countryside of West Sussex, an hour outside of London. It was Thranduil’s pride and joy-- he had rescued the place when it went up for auctions when he was a younger man.

 

His father had not been all too pleased, especially when Thranduil had arrived home the same evening, and, enthusiastically, announced that he would be fixing up the Elizabethan manor house throughout the summer to open it as a hotel.

 

But all in all his family had been supportive and offered their help when Thranduil would allow it, the rest was history.

 

When he entered the lobby he was immediately accosted by his, rather harried looking, hotel manager. Galion was generally a reserved sort of man but today there was no sign of that person as he jittered nervously around Thranduil.

 

“Is everything alright? Your messages didn’t seem to make any sense.” Thranduil’s tone one full of concern as he leads Galion to the main office and forces him into a seat. Immediately the man sprang back to his feet exclaiming that there was no time to be sitting around!

 

“Sir, we have a very important guest arriving and we’re down several staff as it is and… I genuinely do not believe we are prepared for this. We’ve never had a situation wherein our security was questioned.”

 

Thranduil was beginning to wonder if the anxiety coming off Galion in waves was also some excitement. From what he could tell this important guest was likely a celebrity…

 

“Galion, calm down, we’ve had celebrities here before-” He was cut off by Galion’s incredulous look and for a moment he believed he’d offended the man with his words.

 

“Sir, this is not some talk show host here with his mistress. This is a Hollywood star, Bard Bowman, the period actor is on his way!” Ah, well, a world-famous star was quite different and it was clear now why security had been a high factor.

 

While he would not admit it aloud, he did find Bard Bowman very attractive and always found time to watch his latest movies when they came out, Legolas thought it was embarrassing but he still always went with him to the cinema.

 

Having someone like that show up at his hotel would be amazing for business, but he also knew that people came to the hotel and spa to relax and forget the world outside- if he wanted someone like Bard Bowman to consider returning he would have to make the experience as comfortable as possible.

 

Obviously, he would offer as much help as he could to the star, he was the owner of the place it would only be fitting that he be there for the man’s arrival.

 

“Where were you thinking of putting him?” Thranduil asks calmly, hoping his relaxed demeanour would rub off on his manager somewhat.

 

“Ah, actually, I considered the feature suite. It is larger than the other rooms and his management did mention he would be staying with us for a few days, possibly up to a week.” Galion seemed to have come down from whatever height he had been at with his stress and excitement, and was now merely gently buzzing.

 

“Perfect, so if this has all been arranged and everything is in hand, why are you so…” He made lifted his hands to gesture to all of Galion as though to say ‘ like this?’.

 

“Sir, it is Bard Bowman. THE Bard Bowman, you’ve seen him in his newest film, the one where he takes his shirt off, yes?”

 

Of course, he had! He’d had his eyes glued to the screen the entire time and Legolas threatened to leave the cinema because of it… not that Galion had to know this.

 

“Hmm, yes, vaguely recall such a scene.” He lied.

 

“Need I say more, sir?”

 

Rolling his eyes Thranduil moved toward the door with the intention of leaving the office, before he did so he turned to Galion. “Try to behave, and please let me know when he is arriving, I would like to greet him.”

As difficult as it was to remain professional, Thranduil couldn’t help but feel true excitement to meet this man face to face. He had always seemed so kind and gentle in interviews and he wondered if he were truly like that.

 

Galion appeared at his side almost exactly an hour later while Thranduil spoke to one of the gardeners, the manager was practically vibrating as he hurried across the perfectly manicured lawn toward him.

 

“Sir, our guest has arrived. Shall we head back to the lobby to greet him?”

 

Thranduil smoothed a hand over his hair ensuring he looked his best before he nodded and followed Galion back toward the hotel.

 

When Bard climbed out of the car Thranduil felt his heart thud in his chest. As ridiculous as it was he knew he absolutely had a crush on this man, and it irritated him that at his age someone could still ruffle his feathers without trying.

 

The blond didn’t date mainly because he preferred to work without someone telling him he worked too much, that and for the most part he never found anyone that piqued his interest… except for this one Hollywood actor which was completely out of the question.

 

After mentally giving himself a talking to he approached Bard with a confident and welcoming smile and offered his hand to the man who shook it without hesitation.

 

“Mr Bowman, a pleasure to have you here at The Greenwood for the first time. My name is Thranduil Oropherion and I am the owner of this establishment. This is Galion Oakland, the manager that runs the place in my stead. I do hope you enjoy your time here.” Thankfully his tone remained even and he came across as professional rather than fanatical, Legolas would be proud of him. Thranduil was quite proud of himself, to be honest.

 

“Thanks so much, Thranduil. I can’t wait to relax, I’ve been meaning to try this place out for some time, but busy schedules throw me for a loop and after filming I don’t even know what day it most of the time.” Bard laughed, he took in the blond’s appearance, well dressed, beautiful hair… drop dead gorgeous… ah- oh no.

 

Bard looked away momentarily and cleared his throat, this was not what was supposed to be happening, he was here to relax not potentially romance the person that owned the place, but he couldn’t help himself… Thranduil was in a league of his own.

 

“Ah, yes, the live of a film star, it must play havoc on your personal life.” Thranduil surmised and he gestured for Bard to follow, Galion moved towards the car and greeted, who Thranduil could only assume was, the man’s manager.

 

“Let me show you to your room. I truly hope it is to your liking.” They made idle chit chat as they walked, Thranduil pointed out the gardens and the spa across the lawns, an old barn had been converted into the spa area which had become quite popular with his guests.

Thranduil unlocked the door and held it open for the man, he handed Bard the key card that would grant him access to his room and several other amenities throughout his stay.

 

He noticed that Bard only carried an overnight bag.

 

“Do you have luggage that needs to be brought up to your room?”

 

“Oh, yes, but my manager will have that sorted out. Thank you for giving me such a warm welcome, Thranduil. I think I will enjoy my stay.”

 

“Ah, that is wonderful news. Should you need anything please use the phone on the bedside table, or if you see a member of staff wandering by feel free to grab them.” With that, he left the man to get comfortable and he moved down the hall hoping to find Galion on his way back to the office.

 

Gideon was still in deep conversation with Bard’s manager, so was left to tie up any loose ends with that one.

 

Meanwhile, Legolas had appeared in the lobby and approached his father with a knowing look, Thranduil could only imagine what he was about to say.

 

“Ada, how’s it going, I saw a really fancy car outside that wasn’t yours,” The young blond began, he had a look of mischief on his face as he spoke. “I heard a rumour… Galiontextmeandtoldme, that a Hollywood star was staying here for a few days. None other than your favourite actor to ogle at.” The teasing had begun and Thranduil could only pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh.

 

“Legolas, please. While he is here we must remain professional. Please ensure you do the same if you plan on hanging around here.” The pleading tone in his voice was nothing unusual when it came to his son. The teen was a teasing trickster that took great delight in winding up his father with jokes and the like, regardless of who was there to witness such.

 

The young blond shrugged and sauntered off in the direction of the spa, his friend Tauriel would be there finishing up a yoga class, and no doubt they would spend the afternoon making a nuisance of themselves.

 

It wouldn’t be until the next morning that Thranduil would see Bard again. He was crossing the lawn to meet with the gardener again when he heard laughter and excited chatter, he glanced over to where the noise was coming from and found Legolas having a very animated conversation with the star.

 

Thankfully, it seemed to be about an activity as Legolas had set up a space to teach archery, and both men held bows as they laughed and joked about something. A childish as it was, Thranduil could not help but be somewhat jealous, but it seemed his son was being responsible and he couldn’t ask for more than that.

 

He was not given a chance to meet the gardener as Legolas called his father over to the archery range, Bard was stood in the shade of a large oak tree away from the glare of the hot summer sun, while Legolas waved his father over seemingly unable to stand still.

 

"Ada, I was telling Bard that we saw his latest film and how much you enjoyed it."

 

Of course, he had, and Thranduil was hoping the ground would take this opportunity to swallow him up and spit him out in a location thousands of miles from this situation.

 

When he glanced over to where Bard stood the man merely offered an amused smile, though made no move to come to his aid in any way.

 

"Yes, well, I have a fondness for period style dramas." Gods, he could feel his cheeks going pink, though thankfully could use the sun as an excuse this time.

 

"Shouldn't you be teaching an archery class, Legolas?" Hopefully, this would shift the focus from himself.

 

His son had the decency to look sheepish as he nodded, with a swift turn Legolas trotted back to Bard who was still enjoying the shade of the large oak.

 

"Right, your class. Sorry about that. I just wanted you to know how much we like your work, Mr Bowman." He was given an easy smile in response from the actor.

 

"It's always nice to hear from people who enjoy the work I do." A standard practised answer, he'd likely spoken to thousands the same way but at least he was polite enough to respond.

 

Thranduil took this chance to leave, he gave Bard a nod before he returned to his earlier task of seeking out the gardener.

 

Bard watched the blond walk away for a few moments before looking back to his instructor.

 

"Your father is a fan of the kinds of movies I'm in?" He asks trying to sound as casual as possible in his questioning.

 

Legolas snorted.

 

"I think he likes the you in the kinds of movies you're in." If the young man had noticed anything out of the ordinary he didn't give anything away, he was checking over his bow as he spoke. "He definitely thinks you're handsome. I've heard him say it but here he is a professional, and you're a guest. He won't talk to you like you are friends, everything will be just so to ensure your stay is a pleasant one.

 

But honestly, he thinks you're fit as fu- ah... Hell. If you were serious about chasing him you'd have to make the first move." When the blond finally looks up from his bow he offers a genuine smile and moves straight into instructor mode without realising the information he had so easily revealed.

 

The majority of Thranduil’s time for the rest of the day was divided between avoiding his famous guest and helping Galion with a monstrous amount of paperwork that had somehow piled up in his absence.

 

It wasn’t until both he and Galion were yawning that they realised the hour and just how long they had been working in silence-- it was late. The sun was long gone and with it Thranduil’s energy.

 

Rather than drive home at such an hour only to return early the next day he decided to stay in one of the empty rooms for the night. He could have his clothes dry cleaned by the staff in the morning if he needed to.

 

The hotel was quiet at this time of night, most guests slept soundly in their beds at this hour, and Thranduil revelled in the peace it gave him-- until a door opened to his left and out stepped the man he had been avoiding at all costs all day.

 

Sleep still clung to the brunet, but thankfully he was dressed, when he spotted Thranduil he gave an embarrassed smile running a hand through his hair to smooth the wild strands into something that resembled neat.

 

“I uh fell asleep after archery with your son. Didn’t think it would tire me out that much but I think I’ve missed dinner.” As he spoke his stomach rumbled and he placed a hand over his stomach as though trying to muffle the noise.

 

“Let me show you to the kitchen, I am sure we can find you something to eat.” At first, Bard seemed hesitant to follow him but his stomach growled again and he was urged by this to move as Thranduil turned on his heel and led him towards the dining room.

 

Once in the kitchen, Thranduil grabbed an apron and threw it on all the while pulling out ingredients from a large refrigerator.  He was limited in what he could cook but he’d try, he knew the man was starving.

 

“Are you going to cook for me?” Bard asks suddenly breaking the silence, he moves towards the counter that Thranduil was stood at, it was an island counter in the centre of the kitchen, both men stood across from one another under a buzzing strip light. “People are usually terrified of cooking for an actor.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice and when he offered a lopsided smile to ease Thran’s worry it near killed the blond.

 

“You’re the most accommodating hotel owner I’ve ever met. You know, it’s nice to have someone that is kind because that’s just who they are and not because of who I am… Thank you, Mr Oropherion.”

 

It was all too much for him.

 

“Stop that, stop it.” Thranduil scolded as a flush crawled up his neck to his cheeks.

 

Bard’s brown knit together in a confused frown. “Stop what?”

 

“You’re being kind and handsome and extremely likeable. Can’t you make it easier for me to dislike you and be rude just for a moment? And for God's sake call me Thranduil!”

 

The genuine laughter that escaped Bard paralyzed Thranduil, he was rooted to the spot as the man before him delighted in his words. Thranduil knew this was more than a crush and, damn the Gods, it was ridiculous that it got out of hand so quickly.

 

If it had just been awe of his celebrity status Thranduil would have been far happier, but it wasn't that easy-- no this man had to be kind, and sweet and down to earth, all handsome with his wavy hair and dark eyes.

 

What an idiot.

 

He truly hated him. Kind of.

 

“There’s no one like you in Hollywood if there was I’d be married.” Bard had finally stopped laughing and now he was moving around the counter to stand beside Thranduil. “I have to say though, I have some issues with my stay… mainly that whenever you’re around I forget what I’m doing, I have to stop and look at you walk by. My other complaint is that I don’t see enough of you. Is there a service that has the owner wander around a little more or is that something I might have to request is added for my next stay?” Bard was stood close enough that Thranduil could almost feel him and for a long moment he didn't look at the actor, he didn't dare but that decision was taken out of his hands when Bard lifted a hand to Thranduil's cheek and pulled him round to face him and into a soft kiss.

 

Was this really happening?!

 

Thranduil let himself be pushed backwards until his back met with the refrigerator, Bard's hands slid down the blond's sides until his hands were gripping his hips to roughly pull him in.

 

The kiss deepened. Thranduil slid a hand over Bard's shoulder to the back of his neck tangling his fingers in the soft strands of his hair, while his other hand gripped at the actor's t-shirt.

 

It was easy to let Bard do whatever he wanted when being kissed so deeply felt so good.

 

It was cut off all too quickly and Thranduil, to his surprise, bit back a noise that likely would have sounded like a whine.

 

"Shit- I'm so sorry! I… damn it--! I shouldn't have just kissed you like that." Bard dragged a hand through his hair as he turned away from the blond with a huff of frustration directed at himself.

 

Thranduil's heart was beating far too fast for him to be able to concentrate and all he could hear was the blood roaring in his ears.

 

After taking a moment to compose himself Thranduil moved toward the actor and put a hand to his shoulder. He wasn't all too sure what he would say to the man but he did want to reassure him that all was well between them.

 

Wasn't this the dream of thousands of others?

 

To be pressed up against a hard surface and kissed by their favourite celebrity with such a passion the room span?

 

"Do you really regret it that much?" He asks quietly, there was no doubt in his mind that nothing more would come of this, regardless of how much he liked the man.

 

This kind of thing just didn't happen to normal people, this was Rom Com movie fodder at its finest and it could never last.

 

Whatever it was…

 

They knew nothing about each other, they likely had very little in common. While the kiss had blown him away it was time to come back down to earth and put it behind them as quickly as possible.

 

"You look like you regret it more than I do."

 

"I don't regret it but I know nothing more can come of it. I regret that it happened because it won't happen again, that is all."  

 

There was nothing more they could say on the matter and so without any further conversation Thranduil turned back to the ingredients he had all but abandoned earlier and started whipping up an egg white omelette complete with veggies.

 

Food was eaten without a conversation and with only the occasional clink of cutlery against the plates to break the silence between them.

 

Plates were washed and put away by the blond who now steadfastly refused to acknowledge Bard, he had no words for him only clawing mortification, it crawled over his skin at the fact he had so easily allowed himself to believe that the kiss meant anything.

 

Why he had expected such a thing even briefly? It would torture him for days to come he was sure, possibly longer.

 

His shoulders feel tense and when he turns to leave the kitchen Bard is hovering by the door looking oddly perplexed.

 

"You should return to your room and sleep, Mr Bowman. I am glad I was able to be of service tonight, should you need anything please do not hesitate to come to me again." It was a cruel thing to do, to revert back to such a cool and professional façade without warning, but it would save them both any further awkwardness.

 

"Hey-! You… you don't get to… fuck it-" Bard rushed the blond hoisting him up so he was now on the counter. Hands scrabbling to pull open Thranduil's shirt and in a fit of passion he tore it open, buttons popping off and skittering across the floor.

 

He wasted no time in placing his lips on the now revealed skin of Thranduil's chest, soft and warm and, oh-!, he could have spent hours worshipping Thranduil's throat and collarbone with kisses.

 

The blond let out a cry of surprise as his shirt was torn open, this was an experience he'd never have imagined happening to him. The telltale hammering of his heart gave away just how much it excited him.

 

Feeling brave he pulls Bard into a kiss, his legs at either side of the actor pulling him in and effectively trapping him against him.

 

The moan he was rewarded with sent a shiver down his spine and his breath hitched in his throat. When they parted from the kiss Bard looked dazed with rosy kiss bitten lips and wild hair.

 

Debauched.

 

That was it and it was stunning to look upon.

 

"Oh, you're good. Really good…" Bard was breathless but he managed a smirk, brushing his hair from his eyes he took in the site of Thranduil on the countertop with his chest exposed, his braid coming loose from its tie and his startling blue eyes dark with lust.

 

Slowly, and carefully Bard slid a shaking hand up Thranduil's chest smoothing over the soft skin, while the blond watched through his lashes he gasps as Bard gives a light pinch to one of his nipples.

 

They'd gone too far now to turn back and Thranduil would have killed Bard if he had left him in the state he was.

 

Gently, Thranduil pushed Bard back so he could slide off the counter. His legs felt weak as his feet touched the ground. Leaning in he whispered to the brunet,

 

"Let us go somewhere a little more private."

 

They both ended up in Bard's room, clothes were thrown off and tossed away without a care as they slid into the large bed.

 

"I can't lie, I didn't think I'd get you like this but, Gods, I'm a lucky man that I have." Bard's voice was a shaking whisper as they lay side by side. "You're so beautiful I can't stop looking at you." As he says this he brings a hand to Thranduil's cheek stroking the heated skin, Thranduil gives a huff of a laugh in response brushing Bard's hand away.

 

"You're being romantic now?"

 

"Is that not allowed?" Bard asks, he doesn't wait for an answer as he shuffles closer to the blond the hand that had been knocked away now sliding down Thran's back to grab his perfect backside.

 

"You make me want to say ludicrously sweet things that could potentially embarrass the both of us," Bard admitted between kisses, he smiles when Thranduil scoffs at him but nothing more is said.

 

No words passed between them as they stayed locked in a kiss, Bard's tongue sliding over Thranduil's as he raked a hand through the glorious blond hair tugging gently and earning a surprised moan in return.

 

Breaking the kiss Bard regretfully let go of Thranduil's perfect backside but only to push the man onto his back in the centre of the bed.

 

Crawling between Thranduil's legs, Bard pressed soft kisses to all the available exposed skin trailing down from his chest, making sure to graze his teeth over the blond's nipple while a free hand tweaked the other, down to his hip bone leaving love bites on the sensitive skin- the decadent moans he was gifted with after each action thrilled him and urged him to continue his ministrations with more intensity than before.

 

Every inch of him was on fire as Bard continued to torture him, Thranduil felt every single touch as though he was being branded, each press of the brunet's lips to the fingers gripping his hip was a heat that threatened to burn him alive.

 

In a fit of passion and frustration Thranduil threaded his hands into Bard's hair and tugged hard, the other's actions stuttered to a halt for a second and he received a grunt in appreciation from the rough treatment.

 

Bard brought his head up from Thranduil's thighs smirking as his heated gaze met Thranduil's, the blond looked wrecked already and it suited him so damn well.

 

"I like this look on you." The response he got was the roll of eyes but it didn't deter him from his goal of completely undoing the hotelier to the point of no return, which he seemed to be well on the way to achieving.

 

Taking a moment to really study the blond, Bard is hit with the realisation that he wants more of this, he wants to spend more time with Thranduil to truly get to know him. It did not matter to him how long they had known one another, Bard absolutely, without a doubt, wanted more.

 

Meanwhile, Thranduil was glaring daggers at the actor who was now sat motionless staring at him instead of touching him and it drove him wild.

 

“Are you going to leave me waiting like this all night?” Thranduil snapped, though, the whine in his voice removed any harshness that might have come through in his words, and it made Bard grin as he leaned over to lick a stripe up the blond’s chest as if to further tease and taunt.

 

“What’s the matter, do you need me to fuck you?”

 

Oh, it was lewd, and to hear such a thing come from the period actor’s mouth! Whatever purity he had on screen he had well and truly destroyed in person but it made Thranduil’s blood race to hear Bard speak like that to him.

 

“Well, I need an answer, Thranduil,” Bard purred his hands smoothing over the other’s thighs before grabbing them in a bruising grip and pushing them apart, all the while his gaze never moving from Thranduil’s. “You can lie there silently all night blushing and glaring at me, but until you tell me you want it I am not moving a single muscle.” With a waggle of his brows, Bard sat back resting on his heels watching the blond huff and puff before they finally spoke.

 

“It occurs to me that we don’t have any…” He trailed off, would this ruin the mood between them? Would Bard think him frigid for not wanting to continue because there was no mention of protection?

 

Thranduil bit his lip as he looked away from the gloriously nude man before him, this was not a situation he thought he would find himself in. Who would ever think they would be in a situation where a celebrity wants to sleep with them and you have to say no because there’s not a single condom nearby?!

 

“OH shi- We don’t… I mean I don’t have… I don’t have anything with me. I didn’t really come here thinking I would be sleeping with anyone.” Bard looked sheepish when Thranduil managed to find the courage to look back at him, and the expression calmed him more than he imagined it would.

 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t do other things.” As Thranduil said this he sat up so he and Bard were now face to face, and with a slight tilt of his head and a wicked gleam in his eyes he reached out and wrapped his hand around Bard’s length.

 

“Oh… oh yes, I like where this is going. This is why you’re a businessman and I am not. You think far more logically than I.” Bard praised, he shifted so he was fully on his knees which prompted Thranduil to do the same.

 

There no chance for Bard to say anything else as Thranduil began slowly stroking the length in his hand. He made to tease and, gods, did it work, Bard was a mess as he groaned into Thranduil’s shoulder. Bard had slung an arm around Thranduil’s neck with his hand buried in the soft blond hair, while the other arm was around his waist his hand desperately trying to find purchase on the smooth sweat-damp skin of blond’s back as pleasure slowly built up in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Fuck-... You’re going to make me come so fast.” Breathless and desperate Bard pushed his hips forward silently begging for more and his wish was answered when Thranduil pulled him to him so that their hips bumped and he took both lengths in one hand.

 

“I want you to come, I want to hear that indecent noise you make when something feels good, let me hear it.” Thranduil had no idea where this confidence had come from. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone in such a capacity and yet it felt completely natural to be this way with the actor.

 

Bard threw his head back to take a gasping breath moving back slightly to reveal flushed cheeks and blown pupils.

 

Magnificent…  Thranduil thought to himself.

 

With that thought in mind, he leaned forward and captured Bard’s mouth in a hot and bruising kiss unable to contain a moan as both lengths, slick with precome, slide together in his hand.

 

It was hard to contain himself, but when Thranduil slid his tongue into Bard’s mouth that was it, he was done for this man had wrecked him and he could feel himself getting harder in the blond’s hand, he broke the kiss and for a second was too dazed to speak but when he did Thranduil’s eyes widen in confusion at what he’d said.

 

“Bite me, please, just bite me.” It didn’t matter to him that he was begging for it, he just needed it, he wanted it, to feel Thranduil’s teeth near break his skin- it was startling how much he wanted to be marked by this man.

 

“I- alright.” His strokes sped up, the request had his heart racing he was intrigued by it and ridiculously turned on by it at the same time.

 

With his free hand, Thranduil brushed Bard’s dark hair from his neck holding the strands tightly in his hand as he leaned in. He heard Bard whine a plea again and he pressed a kiss to the spot he wished to place a bite, perhaps an apology in advance or even a thank you, at this point, Thranduil knew he was too far gone to understand his own actions at that moment.

 

“Thranduil… please, I’m so close!”

 

It truly blew his mind how much he adored hearing Bard like this, he had the control now and he had no plans of letting it go, with that, he bit down into the skin between Bard’s shoulder and neck and the brunet howled from the mix of pain and pleasure his hips bucking wildly as he came hard over Thranduil’s hand.

 

The reaction was all Thranduil needed for his own release and he too came, his face buried in Bard’s now bruised shoulder as he shuddered through the pleasure.

 

Before Thranduil could say anything, Bard was up and off the bed padding away to another room, and for a split second, he panicked.

 

Had regret set in almost instantly?

 

When Bard returned with a damp washcloth he relaxed and accepted the item with a thankful smile. Once cleaned up Thranduil made to find his clothes but Bard had other ideas and pulled him down onto the bed.

 

"Stay here tonight, please?" They both knew it was probably a bad idea but still, Thranduil agreed and did not resist when Bard slung an arm over him and pulled him closer.

 

The buzzing of his phone on the wood of the bedside table jolted Thranduil from his sleep, and groggily he turned over to grab it and without looking to see who it was he answered.

 

"Sir, where are you?! I've been calling for an hour, Legolas said you didn't go home last night and you're not in the empty room here at the hotel!

 

Also, the chef came in this morning saying there were buttons all over the floor of the kitchen.

 

Is everything alright?" Thranduil bolted into the seating position disturbing the man sleeping next to him, thankfully Bard just mumbled sleepily about an extra 5 minutes and rolled over and fell right back to sleep.

 

"I'll be with you in a moment- ah… perhaps longer. I apologize for being unreachable. I appear to have slept in." There was no way he would actually explain what had happened, as much as he trusted his manager he wasn't going to start giving him information on his love life.

 

But he did need a new shirt…

 

"Let me call you back." He hung up the phone and called Legolas hoping the boy hadn't left home for the day.

 

When a relieved voice answered the phone Thranduil immediately apologised for worrying him. His behaviour was out of character and it likely shook the teen a little leaving him to worry about the whereabouts of his father.

 

"I need you to bring me a shirt to the hotel. Leave it in the office, just… please don't question me on where I was last night."

 

"Dad- wait… did you stay over at someone's place last night?" The playful tone crept into Legolas' voice slowly but Thranduil had heard it all the same and he sighed heavily pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Legolas, just bring me a shirt. I will speak to you when you get to the hotel.” Legolas agreed and the call ended there. When Thranduil looked back to Bard the man was awake and watching him with half-lidded eyes still trying to rid himself of the sleep that clung to his features.

 

“Are you going to tell anyone about us?” The tone sounded neutral to Thranduil’s ears, but his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the words as though the man had spoken with a warning in his voice.

 

“No, what good would come from it to tell the world that we spent the night together?” As he spoke he moved his gaze to his hands still holding his phone, but now it felt as though he was clutching it to ground himself. “There isn’t really an us, Bard.”

 

He felt the bed shift beside him as Bard sat up, a hand wrapped gently around his wrist and, finally, he looked back to the actor who seemed more concerned than anything else. The grim expression Thranduil thought he’d have was actually a soft yet sad smile as though he perfectly understood the situation.

 

“You can tell your son, he probably already has an idea of what’s going on anyway.”

 

Thranduil left Bard soon after that, he pulled on his clothes and hid the buttonless shirt under his suit jacket, thankfully, no one saw him or stopped him on the way to his office. When he walked in Legolas was sat on the Thranduil’s desk holding up the shirt smirking as his father snatched it away from him.

 

“So….” Legolas began, he stayed seated on the desk as Thranduil shrugged out of the suit jacket and disposed of the ruined shirt. Ever the eagle-eyed boy he noticed right away what was wrong with it and crowed with delight, arms crossed over his belly as he laughed.

 

“SOMEONE RIPPED OPEN YOUR SHIRT, ADA!" The youth could scarcely contain himself, the glee on his face as his father pulled on the new shirt, mischief was abound!

 

"Who was this passionate and ruthless curr that dared destroy one of your favourite McKenzie shirts?!"

 

"Please keep your voice down, I do not want Galion coming in here to ask what the fuss is all about." Thranduil chided softly. The laughter and joy radiating from his son soothed his worries and once he was dressed he seated himself at his desk and motioned for Legolas to get down.

 

It really didn’t seem normal to speak to his son about this, he didn’t want to tell his son anything, no details but he did deserve to know why he wasn’t at home that night….

 

First thing first, he needed coffee, he was not going to be able to get through the day without caffeine to distract him.

 

“I need coffee and I have paperwork to do, perhaps, you should be off looking for something to do yourself?” Unhappy at being brushed off like that Legolas frowned and pulled up a chair to sit opposite his dad.

 

“Come on, who did you stay with last night, I don’t need details, because that is therapy I just don’t need. You can tell me who it was at least?” It occurred to Thranduil that his son might want to know because he cared about him and needed to know he was happy.

 

Resigning himself to this thought, Thranduil took a deep breath and sat back in his seat before exhaling, he would tell him but he must promise to keep it quiet.

 

“I was with Bard.” There was a beat of silence wherein Thranduil watched Legolas try in vain to keep his expression one of indifference but just as he managed, a bright smile erupted and he let out a tiny whoop of excitement.

 

“I totally knew he was into you, I just knew, he kept asking about you when we were doing archery yesterday. Are you going to see him again?” While the excitement was adorable it was extremely misplaced, surely it would have come to his attention that a Hollywood star like Bard could not date a nobody like his father?

 

“I will very likely never see him again.” It was said firmly enough that his son genuinely looked concerned, instead of arguing he simply got up and left the office without another word.

 

Greatly concerned about this Thranduil stood to follow, as he did Galion wandered in looking extremely relieved to see him there.

 

“Glad I could catch you here, we have a lot to go over!”

 

Rather than arguing Thranduil retook his seat and gestured for Galion to take the seat his son had just exited.

 

“I saw Legolas on my way in, he looked…” Galion paused as he tried to find the right words to describe the youth, “Determined, I’d say. Did you two... argue?” It was put delicately because both blonds did occasionally clash but it was what happened between a parent and child at times, this time, at least they hadn’t argued. Though, Thranduil was not entirely sure what had actually happened.

 

“I’ve no idea what is going through his head, but for now let us drop that and pick up on where we left off yesterday with this paperwork.”

 

It didn’t take Legolas to find Bard.

 

The actor was sat nursing a cup of coffee in the dining room trying to remain casual at the fact people were whispering about him and likely hoping for autographs and photo ops.

 

Navigating his way through the sea of tables and chairs, Legolas approached the man and pulled up a chair to sit with him, one of the waiters passed by and handed Legolas a cup of tea with a wink.

 

He had to admit, Bard looked positively woeful, and made no effort to hide it even when he looked up to see Legolas sat across from him sipping tea, and looking very much like a younger version of his father.

 

“You look like you need a pick me up, why don’t you come practise archery with me again today, we can talk, yeah?” It wasn’t an invitation more of an order but Bard agreed readily, anything to get away from the curious eyes of the occupants in the dining room.

 

While he was used to being in the public eye, it didn’t feel right when he was feeling so vulnerable, not that they knew but still it wasn’t nice.

 

Once outside Legolas turned to Bard and put his hands on his hips, it looked odd for the young man to look so stern but he kind of guessed what was coming… this was definitely about Thranduil.

 

“Try and hit that target.” Another order but Bard grabbed a bow and took an arrow offered from the quiver Legolas had originally had on his back which was now in his hand.

 

There was silence as Bard nocked the arrow, just as he was about to loose it Legolas spoke.

 

“So you’re going to spend the night with my dad and probably never see him again, huh?” Bard flinched and the arrow sailed high into the air and landed in the upper branches of the tree in front of them.

 

“You are really going to talk so boldly about your dad’s love life?” The bow was discarded as Bard turned to face the youth, his heart was pounding hard in his chest he wasn’t if it was from sheer mortification or anger.

 

“Ahah, calm down. At your age high blood pressure is an issue, right?” Honestly, riling up the actor had not been his initial plan but, man, it was fun to do. “Even if you’re a famous Hollywood darling with all the best healthcare you can still be susceptible.”

 

“Why are you doing this to me?”

 

Maybe he was being unfair to Bard, it was very highly likely that his dad had been the one to brush Bard off and end things before they began. It had always been like that, no one was allowed to get close to the Oropherion family.

 

“I just want to know why you’d spend the night with him knowing full well nothing more could come of it, seems pretty selfish to me.” All this was said so airily that to anyone wandering by they would assume it was nothing but a normal conversation and not a young man verbally eviscerating a celebrity to his face.

 

“You’re a celebrity, shouldn’t you be, I dunno, sticking to banging your own kind?” It was vulgar and uncalled for but Legolas truly wanted to push the man to the edge. Perhaps it appeared sadistic to see Bard squirm and enjoy it but it wasn’t as though this was all for fun, the torture, believe it or not, had a purpose.

 

“After all, my ada is a good and kind man, he was probably excited to meet the person he admired from the big screen and you… you know?” Legolas made a motion as if he was tossing something aside and watched as Bard grew pale.

 

Eventually, Bard had enough and he clenched his fists several times as he tried to conjure words to his tongue to defend himself.

 

Nothing came.

 

Nothing of substance in his eyes.

 

“I wasn’t looking for a fling.” Bard croaked, it took all he had in him to look Legolas in the eye as he spoke. “I wasn’t looking to do anything like that… you make it seem so sordid but- he isn’t a dirty little secret!” He hadn’t felt ashamed of their night together until now. He had been lamenting over the fact that Thranduil hadn’t seemed interested in trying to make something of them when his son had appeared in the dining hall, all high and mighty ready to fell the beast that had dared dig his claws into his father.

 

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, other than maybe you’re protective of your dad, I get that but do you really have to tear me to shreds like this?” He gave a huff of frustration and turned to face the target nailed to the tree beside them. A moment was needed to collect himself before he completely forgot what composure was in front of knife tongued teenager.

Though, he had to admit that the 19-year-old was quick and had no qualms about loosing such venomous speech on unsuspecting mortals like himself. It was rather impressive and Bard knew that if Legolas was like this that his father must have been much worse.

 

Oddly, thinking such a thing gave him a thrill that stuttered down his spine.

 

“I shouldn’t really be getting involved. I knew you were interested in him the way you spoke yesterday and I should have tried to stop you then. You can’t be together so why would you even try?” Whatever harsh tone had been in Legolas’ voice earlier was gone now and he sounded very sorrowful. This was a boy that would grieve his father’s pain and try to protect him from any further sadness if he could.

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

 

“You needn’t say anything.” Thranduil’s voice cut in suddenly, and both Legolas and Bard turned to face him as he walked towards both of them with Galion in tow looking mightily confused but trying to get Thranduil back into the office to do further paperwork.

 

He failed.

 

“Legolas, you do not need to get involved in this, see to it that you find something else to do this instant. Mr Bowman, I apologise that you were terrorised by my son, he is usually more well behaved than this.” With a side eye at his son, he watched the youth slink off leaving the bows and quiver of arrows discarded by Bard’s feet.

 

“Galion can you ensure he finds something constructive to do?” The manager nodded and turned on his heel hurrying after the young man as he dragged his feet in the direction of the hotel dining hall.

 

“Back to the Mr Bowman thing again?”

 

“How would you have me address you?”

 

Oh, Bard didn’t like this, he did not like this at all. The coolness in Thranduil’s voice and the haughty expression was a far cry from the heated and needy gaze of the night before. It left Bard feeling chilled from the inside out at how easy it had been for the blond to ice him out like that.

 

So be it, if this was how he wanted to play it then let the theatrics carry on.

 

“Yes, well. Kids these days can be so excitable around a celebrity. I am sure he meant no harm. Could you direct me to the spa, I seem to have gotten myself turned around and I have no idea where I am.” There it was, the way their interactions should have been from the start.

 

Thranduil nodded and led Bard to the spa across the lawn. They were greeted by the head masseuse and Thranduil left the two of them to get acquainted.

 

For the rest of the day, he remained in his office with Galion tiptoeing around and trying his best not to mention Bard. While he had no idea what had happened between them he knew something was wrong and hoped not to further upset his boss by bringing up the actor.

 

The hour was late again when they finished for the evening, and Thranduil moved to make his way to the empty guest room to sleep, thinking better of it he turned back to the lobby and headed out into the night.

 

Rain clouds had rolled in in the afternoon looming over the hotel and grounds ominously matching Thranduil’s mood with ease.

 

Driving home is better, safer especially after what happened the night before. He thought to himself as he walked across the empty forecourt and over to the dimly lit carpark.

 

When Thranduil approached his car he realised there was a figure stood nearby smoking in the dark, they flicked the cigarette away when they notice Thranduil walking towards them, they step under one of the lights in the car park revealing themselves.

 

Bard.

 

“I figured you’d not make the same mistake twice…”

 

“Please, don’t say anything else, I can’t bear it.” Thranduil groaned as Bard slipped his hands around his waist his lips finding Thranduil’s neck placing kisses where he could. They were alone in the dark together again and any resistance Thranduil had melted away when Bard’s lips met his in a soft kiss.

 

There was no doubt about it, he wanted this.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Bard whispered against his lips, his hands moving now to tug Thranduil’s shirt up, careful this time when he began to unbutton it ensuring he did not pop any buttons off this time around. “Tell me honestly, do you want this… us?”

 

A sight he must have been his shirt open wide leaning heavily against the side of his car while Bard stared down at him hungrily, a wolf pinning down his prey with just a look.

 

Rain began to fall spattering them with icy water. A great relief to Thranduil’s already heated skin, his chest heaved as he tried to put his racing thoughts in order. It would be easy to say he wanted this, he did, Bard made him feel so alive they were both interested in more that much was obvious but…

 

It wouldn’t work-- Thranduil was needed here and Bard was forever under the scrutiny of the public of tabloids, it was no world to live in, he needed to be around the world on location for the most part.

 

Who even knew if what they had could last, it could be just physical attraction, no one had mentioned love… it was too early to think of such a thing anyway, right?

 

“Of course I want there to be an us.”

 

“There’s a but coming, I can feel it.” Bard gave Thranduil a lopsided smile but his eyes spoke of barely concealed pain knowing full well what was coming. It didn’t stop him from being hopeful as much of a waste of time it would be regardless.

 

“I want you, Bard… but it has been 24 hours and we’re acting as though we’ve been lovers for years. Isn’t this moving too fast for two people our age?” He wondered if it sounded like he was clutching at straws trying to scrabble around for excuses to banish him from his life, that’s what it felt like.

 

“Is that so wrong, to feel intensely for someone they have only known a day?”

 

“This isn’t one of your period dramas, Bard. We’re real people living real lives that don’t fit in any way. Stop playing around fooling yourself into thinking we can be anything but a fling, I don’t know what this feeling inside me but it can’t be left to grow.

 

You’ll leave this place and I will remain here everything about you still so vivid while all of this becomes a memory to you.”

 

Bard made to move back toward Thranduil. The blond threw his arm out to stop him.

 

“No, leave me alone. Don’t come near me… just leave me be.” He fumbled in his pockets for his car keys, his hands were numb from the cold rain and he struggled to unlock the door.

 

Finally, the lock clicked and was pulled open, without a single second of hesitation Thranduil threw himself into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine.

 

The tires screeched as the car roared out of the car park and out into the darkness of the British countryside.

 

Thranduil did not return to the hotel for the remainder of Bard’s stay. Legolas could not coax him out of the house and Galion had to bring any paperwork that needed signing off on to the house.

 

Bard left the hotel the next day and headed home.

 

Time passed by and Thranduil eventually moved on and let Bard go from his memories. He returned to work after a well-deserved break away from the hotel, life carried on and the world continued to turn as it always had.

 

A year passed by and the hotel thrived.

 

Summer had come and the gardens were in full bloom, Galion found Thranduil sat among the blooms enjoying the warm afternoon.

 

“Sir, there’s a large team here, I believe they’re from the production team we spoke to last month. We offered accommodation to them while they were shooting in the nearby village, the producer wanted to speak to you.” Thranduil nodded and rose to his feet from the bench he had been reclining on. He hadn’t really been the same since that actor had been around, but Galion couldn’t get his boss to actually reveal what happened between them.

 

Whatever it had been had changed Thranduil and he became a quieter and more reclusive version of who he had once been. Secretly Galion believed they had been in love with one another, but it had been too much too soon for the both them and the fallout was emotional warfare.

 

Thranduil greeted the producer, an American man with buckets of charisma, an ex-actor, Thranduil recalled a film or two he had seen in him from the past. They chatted about the rooms, how long they would need and if he was able to offer on-site catering.

 

Once this was all agreed and arranged the producer insisted he meets the director and a few of the cast members. Regardless of how politely he declined Thranduil was led to a group of men and woman stood around a large bus with tinted windows, most of them turned to greet him and smiled brightly as he introduced himself.

 

“Ah, you gotta meet the star of the show, you’ve probably heard of him ahaha.” The joke only grated on Thranduil as the crowd parted and he was stood face to face with none other than Bard Bowman.

 

Both men took mere seconds to recover from their shock and greeted one another as though they had never met. As soon as he was able Thranduil excused himself and returned to the hotel with every intention of grabbing his keys from his office and running away home.

 

In the cool dark of the office Thranduil took a second to breathe and push the images of Bard’s surprised face from his mind, how could he have been shocked to see him, he knew the hotel was his…

 

Biting his lip hard he paced the office hoping the thumping of his heart would subside before he got behind the wheel of his car. Fate was playing a cruel trick on him to bring Bard back into this life when he had been doing fine without seeing his infuriatingly handsome face for 12 months!

 

Legolas burst into the room with concern etched into his youthful face, he slammed the door shut behind him and loped over to his dad practically vibrating with worry.

 

“Ada, I saw him here.” When he spoke his voice was small and sad, it hadn’t taken him long to realise, after Bard had left the hotel last year, that both men had very much been in love with one another. Though he’d not dare say such a thing aloud when his dad was in earshot.

 

“All is well, my son.” This was all Thranduil said before he grabbed his keys from the desk and left the office with every intention of heading home to stay there until the cast and production team left for good.

 

Galion headed him off at the lobby doors and walked alongside him babbling about how he really needed Thranduil for moral support and, of course, authority.

 

“Should the team run amok, how would they react to me telling them to stop, I think I’d have them rolling on the floor laughing. I need you here to put the fear of the Gods into them!” His longtime friend made an excellent point, it's just… he knew he wasn’t strong enough to face Bard on a daily basis.

 

But this was his hotel, why did he have to run away with his tail between his legs. Bard ought to be the one that felt shame stepping foot in this place again!

 

His resolve hardened and his grip tightened around his keys to the point they near cut into his skin.

 

“You’re right, Galion. I am needed here. It is unacceptable for me to think I can leave this on your shoulders alone.” He put his free hand on his friend’s shoulder and have it a reassuring squeeze and he watched the man give a relieved sigh.

 

“The chef needed to see you as did the new yoga instructor. I am heading out with Legolas to the market to collect more honey, and we need fresh flowers for the rooms. I will be 3 hours at the most if you need me I am a phone call away.” Galion turned on his heel and gestured for Legolas to follow him, the boy trudged past his dad without looking at him clearly lost in thought but it didn’t make Thranduil worry any less for him.

 

There was no mistaking the worry his son had shown him when he realised Bard was there with the production team. He had run into the office with every intention of protecting him from… himself? From Bard?

 

There was no way of knowing now.

 

With a sigh he made his way down to the kitchen, the chef was nowhere to be found. Typical. Muttering under his breath about disappearing staff he walked back to the lobby where he found himself quite alone with the one man he had hoped to avoid.

 

“Why is it just when everything seems better you show up?” The outburst surprised him, his mouth had taken a leap and left his brain stumbling to catch up as he mouthed off at the man he had been so sure he loved 12 months ago.

 

To his credit, Bard took it on the chin and merely offered a shrug in response. Taking a closer look Thranduil saw black bags under his eyes, a life on location was bound to catch up with him eventually but it didn’t make Thranduil happy to see him like that.

 

Something odd bloomed in his stomach and he twisted to turn away but thought better of it and approached the actor.

 

“Are you alright?” The sincerity in his voice must have moved something in Bard because he shook his head and softly said.

 

“No, I’m not ok. I’m the very definition of not ok.”

 

Anxiety wriggled in his chest, but pushing it aside Thranduil led Bard into his office and offered him a seat.

 

He declined.

 

There were so many things he wanted to ask the actor, but everything that came to mind just felt so accusatory and while he had been so angry that he dared show up at the hotel again… he couldn’t help but notice the flutter in his heart when their eyes met for the first time again.

 

“I’m sorry, Thranduil. I should have asked them to find another place to stay, but I thought that if I pretended to be ignorant of the place as though I had never been here before... I would get a chance to see you again.”

 

Bard’s phone rang suddenly and both of them jumped at the sudden noise. It was the director trying to locate their star for a makeup test and scene read through. Shoving the phone in his pocket Bard said a hurried goodbye to Thranduil and left without looking back.

 

They wouldn’t see each other alone again for two days.

 

The sun was cracking the pavement when Thranduil climbed out of his car, Legolas hopped out of the passenger seat and made a beeline for the yoga studio to find his friend, leaving Thranduil to walk through the deserted car park alone.

 

The hotel only held the production crew for the moment and the majority of them were on location in the village filming filler scenes with the random extras and supporting cast. Leaving the stars of the show to relax and enjoy the benefits of the spa for the day.

 

The blond took this time to wander the halls to ensure all was well, so far he had not encountered anyone and he enjoyed the relative peace that came with a full and yet strangely empty hotel. He rearranged flowers in the hallway and straightened out a few paintings, but all in all, everything was, dare he say, perfect?

 

With time on his side, he decided that a walk in the gardens wouldn’t be such a bad idea, it would give him time to collect his thoughts and plan out the rest of his day. Legolas has expressed an interest in a local restaurant, he and Tauriel were going to try it out for dinner which left himself with no plans.

 

The evening was his and so far he was at a loss on how to fill his time.

 

Flopping down onto the closest bench he ran a hand through his hair and let his mind wander for a moment allowing himself to actually waste time and idle in the sunshine. His peace was disturbed rather quickly by a woman in a pretty floral dress and sunhat, she sat beside him without invitation.

 

Thranduil smiles broadly as he looks over to his ex-wife, she looked smug but not overtly so. She pinned him with her grey gaze and spoke the words he had been expecting to hear for quite some time.

“Our son tells me you’re having issues with your love life.” There it was, she came to meddle and while most would believe having an ex-wife intrude on your love life was odd, Thranduil couldn’t think of a better time for her to appear before him with answers or advice.

 

“He does like to get chatty about my problems... “

 

“Well, the boy has more sense than you do. So, a Hollywood celebrity has captured your heart, broken it and now has come to what? Do the same again only 12 months later?” Although her tone was breezy Thranduil knew she was seething with rage which was absolutely directed at Bard. They were a lucky couple to have ended on such good terms, to still have love for one another to be able to rely on each other’s help…

 

Thranduil was thankful for that.

 

“Amaris, please. Do not be so harsh, you know as well as I do that part of the reason it ended so damned badly was due to my… my wonderful ability to be completely and utterly emotionally repressed at the wrong time.” Her delighted laugh held a wicked edge as she laughed in agreement, she placed a hand on his knee and shook her at how hopeless he was.

 

“I don’t remember you being this terrible at the dating game when we were first getting together,” Amaris recalled, she was right but back then he was confident because he had been a stone cold idiot head over heels in love with a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. Thranduil had never been in control in that situation but Amaris had led him to believe he had been, that’s how it had worked out so well before they ended up parting ways.

 

“In any case, this is not the same and you and I. Bard is just as clueless about feelings as I am. We’re old and inexperienced.”

 

“You’re 39.”

 

“Exactly, old and inexperienced.”

 

“I truly despair of you, Thran. I really do. I know you want my advice, and here it is, just tell him you love him. If he can tear your heart in two after just one day there’s something there worth keeping or at least trying to build.

 

You don’t even realise how your face lights up when you talk about him, even if it is the least flattering thing you can say about the man you supposedly love.

 

If you keep running away eventually he is going to stop chasing and then you’re both alone and unhappy.” Legolas appeared at the edge of the garden looking overjoyed to see both of his parents together, there was not a moment where he believed his parents would get back together but he did like seeing them like this.

 

Jogging over Legolas hugged his mother in greeting.

 

“This is my cue to leave, my love. Though a short visit, a lovely one nonetheless. Please update me on how this goes because if you do not our son absolutely will and he may embellish the story wildly.” Thranduil watched them leave feeling lighter than he had before, and now he knew what he had to do but it didn’t make it any easier to put into action.

 

At least he didn’t need to spend time searching for the brunet as he walked into the garden as Amaris and Legolas were leaving. His son pointed out the man to his mother without thought of how conspicuous he was being in doing so.

 

He stayed seated as Bard strode over, not entirely sure of the other man’s mood, regardless of what it was, he hoped he would be amicable and be, at least, open to conversation, even just casual light small talk.

 

Thankfully, he took a seat beside him, their legs almost touching.

 

“Is that… your wife?” The words tumbled from Bard’s mouth without prompting and Thranduil felt his stomach wind up into knots. He did not like the idea that Bard clearly assumed he was still married even after they’d spent the night together doing things men married to a woman did not do with other men.

 

“Well, she was once.” It was better not answer as simply as possible, Bard already looked tightly wound and exhausted from work, he didn’t need any added unnecessary stress from him playing ridiculous games. “We remained close friends for Legolas and because we realised that we do love each other just not in the way married people usually are.”

 

Bard glanced back at the woman, she and Legolas were still visible and were stood at the side of her car chatting happily, a redheaded girl joined them and the conversation continued this time merrier than before.

 

“Right, well… I’m glad I found you because I really need to speak with you.” Thranduil nodded for Bard to continue even as he felt his insides freeze up with anxiety and fear. “I want to be with you… even after 12 months of us being apart I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The sheer amount of times I’ve considered coming here to tell you- Thranduil, I love you and I don’t think I can stop, even if you ask me to… even if you demand it and even if you send me away I’ll love you.”

 

There it was.

 

The both of them surrounded by summer blooms under the hot afternoon sun-- words of love expressed by someone Thranduil thought he would never see again, never get the chance to hold or learn more about.

 

The blond raised a hand and tangled his fingers in the soft strands of Bard’s hair pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his lips, he could feel him smiling into the kiss. Bard’s shoulders sag and the tension he had held there for days dissipated in seconds.

 

“How lucky I am to hear such words, it just so happens that I love you. A matching pair and now we must always be together.”


	28. Castle Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond adopted Bard at a very young age, and raised I'm in Rivendell. As an adult Bard moved to Dail, Elrond would visit him constantly, Elrond loves his grandchildren, and comforted Bard when his wife died. Thranduil knows Elrond has a human son, but has never meet him. Years later Thran wright's Elrond asking for advice on how to talk to his human crush after BOTFA, not knowing he's Elrond's son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request a prompt from my tumblr blog:
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> Thanks :)

Castle Down

 

——————— **  
**

“War takes something from us all, Bard. Be it physical or emotional, it does not discriminate because death is inevitable to all.” Elrond poured more tea into Bard’s cup before seating himself across from the man at a small table.

They were sat out on the balcony of Elrond’s home the sun was still high in the sky and, for the first time in what felt like years, all felt calm.

For a moment Bard merely stared at his teacup blandly. He’d have preferred ale but his Ada had already explained why that was not such a good idea.

Wrestling with a flare of anger pulsing in his chest Bard reached for the cup with a shaking hand and lifted it to his lips.

Where it had come from he did not know but ever since the battle he had found it hard to keep himself in check.

It was partly the reason why he had returned to Rivendell with his children.

Seeing the intense emotion in his son, Elrond rose from his seat again and moved around the table to comfort him.

“I know this is hard for you, to try and return to normal life after the events that have passed. I promise I know all too well.”

Elrond stayed by Bard’s side a moment longer studying the man beside him. It had seemed like only yesterday Elrond had taken him in as an infant and raised him as his own.

Then wild-haired and bright-eyed boy had grown into a handsome young man, a man who had married the love of his life and gifted Elrond with 3 wonderful grandchildren.

Though his life had not known only joy.

 

 

Elrond had comforted Bard when the man lost his wife… for a long time, he was not the same, and those around him who knew him and loved him felt it keenly.

The Lord of Rivendell would not allow his son to leave until he knew Bard left with a clearer mind and unburdened heart.

Once he was sure his son was calmed he left for his study. Many a missive had been delivered throughout the morning, and Elrond had cast the work aside to be with his family.

Now, unfortunately, he could no longer ignore his correspondence and he seated himself at his desk to begin the arduous task of replying to each letter.

When he came across a familiar looking seal and script a gentle smile graced his lips, Thranduil had made contact.

It made his heart glad that after the battle the blond had reached out to him, regardless of what the letter held.

It seemed the elf no longer hid away from the world but had opened his eyes to it once again.

After scanning the letter quickly, Elrond set it down and called Lindir to his study.

“I fear any tasks that might require my attention today will have to wait. I have received the most interesting missive and I cannot ignore it. Lindir, I ask that you rearrange anything of the utmost importance for tomorrow morning.” The other elf merely nodded respectfully and left without questioning the Lord on the contents of the letter.

When alone again Elrond set about reading every detail, the tone of the words Thranduil used felt as though he was confused and uneasy when penning the note.

_Lord Elrond,_

_My sincerest apologies for the abrupt arrival of my letter._

_I ask that you take these words as seriously as any others though laughable as it may seem when I explain my reason for contacting you._

_As you likely are aware, I rode to the ruins of Dale with aid and to meet with their leader. There… I met someone._

_Elrond, I have fallen in love with a human man and my world seeks to crumble around me when I try to fathom how this happened!_

_For this I seek your advice, I must contact this man and tell him how I feel._

_Therein lies the problem. How do I find words to express my affection? In all the time I have been alive I’ve only loved one other and her loss leaves me aching still._

_You have a human son, and yourself are familiar with humans, your advice is welcome and I would owe you a debt of gratitude should you find it in you to help me._

_Thranduil, Lord of Mirkwood._

It took several minutes for it to truly sink in just what Thranduil had asked of him. To know that his friend had found love again was truly wonderful but he had set himself up to fail from the beginning. Could Thranduil watch as this mortal aged and died before his very eyes?

It was not his place to discuss this, he decided and moved to pull a sheet of parchment toward him to deliver a response as soon as he could.

He found for a moment that he was quite unable to find words to aid Thranduil, and as much as he would have liked the help of his son… Bard was in no fit state to talk on the matters of love and human courtship.

Setting down his pen he sighs, this was important and yet his mind seemed in no hurry to provide any help to him on the matter.

For now, all he could do was explain that he would help him he just needed time to work out how he would go about it.

Bard was the obvious choice and if he framed the conversation as a means of distraction there might be a chance he would assist. Speaking on something that could create hope in another might be what the man needed.

It wasn’t easy to make this decision, and eventually, it was made for him as Bard knocked on the door of the study before walking in looking worn out and pale.

Nightmares had plagued him since the desolation of Laketown and even now in the calm of Rivendell, he could not escape the screaming and the fire that haunted him.

“Ada, I just need some company, I won’t bother you but I don’t want to be alone.”

“Come, let me offer you a distraction and hopefully you can rest better with something better on your mind.” Slowly he slid Thranduil’s letter over to his son who took it and scanned the words quickly, his mouth quirked into a smile as he read before looking up and giving his father a strangely delighted laugh.

“Lord Thranduil is in love with a man from Dale?!” It seemed like a wild lie speaking such a thing out loud but there it was written plain as day in beautiful curling script from the blond’s own hand.

“I admit that I didn’t notice his eye wandering to anyone other than his wine cup. It isn’t like we spent a lot of time together… I did get to see that famous attitude of his that you’ve mentioned several times in the past.” It was almost a fondness in his voice as he spoke and Elrond frowned lightly as he put two and two together.

He merely sat as Bard recounted his time with the elven lord. Their first meeting right up to the moment they stood with an army at their back facing Thorin holed up in the mountain as they revealed the Arkenstone in their possession.

How his face lit up as he spoke on Thranduil’s behaviour as Mithrandir spoke of impending doom that would befall them should they not be vigilant. Bard found himself laughing as he recalled Thranduil’s look to him as the wizard blustered on, the look that perhaps a friend would only share with another they trusted.

“Ada, you did not tell me he was so…”

“Forthright, yes, well. You cannot always warn someone enough about such a thing.” Elrond apologised though not without a smile.

“… Well, that too. He’s very…” Bard trailed off again when he realises what he was about to say. The elven lord was in love with someone Bard knew, and he knew that if he didn’t find out who it was this would surely plague him for days.

“Does something bother you about this?”

Bard shook his head but Elrond could tell he wanted to say something, he let the room fall into silence allowing Bard the quiet to think.

“I just… don’t remember him being close to anyone other than his own kind and myself. I can’t imagine who it could be unless he meant a dwarf but I think he’d sooner eat his elk than ever admit that.” There was a slight nervousness to his words but before his father could question him on it Bard had stood up and moved to the door of the study.

“I think I’m going to go to bed, there’s an awful ache in my head I want rid of.  Let me know if you need any help replying to that letter tomorrow.” There was no option to respond, his son was out of the door and out of sight within seconds.

With that offer in mind, Elrond penned a response to Thranduil and had it sent out by courier. The lord of Mirkwood would receive the letter by morning and Elrond hoped something would come of his meddling.

Five days later, on a balmy evening, Elrond greeted Thranduil and his guards in the courtyard. They had travelled far and were exhausted from the trip but Thranduil seemed in high spirits after receiving the letter from Elrond nearly a week ago.

The guards were shown to the barracks to rest and wash, while Elrond took Thranduil to a set of rooms where he would be staying.

Before he left they say together to speak on Elrond’s summons, Thranduil seemed insistent that they do so.

“While I hold hope in me that this is not all for nought I cannot help but feel like a child. How easy it was for you to lure me here with the promise of answers… I trust you but I do not trust myself.”

With a slight tilt to his head, Elrond looked upon the blond and took in his appearance. While he was dusty from travelling sun-baked roads, and tired from the days of travel he did look happier, perhaps brighter than Elrond had seen him in years.

“You do not trust yourself, I wonder if you mean you are anxious of the outcome of this meeting. I assure you my son will help you as best he can, he seemed eager to offer his assistance, delighted to know that you had fallen for someone in Dale.” Thranduil refused to meet his friend’s gaze and he busied himself with removing his travelling cloak from his shoulders.

“There are moments of great joy that I am able to feel such again, and yet, in quiet times I seek to confirm why I have condemned myself to further pain by falling for a mortal.” Finally, he raised his light grey eyes to Elrond and gave him a shrug.

Quite out of character but Elrond could not help but feel the king of Mirkwood felt helpless at that moment and could offer nothing more but the vague action.

The hour was late yet Elrond could see his friend has no intention of resting for the evening. His every move seemed fraught with anticipation as though the seconds had stretched to feel like millennia and Thranduil suffered through it all with movements reminiscent of a marionette than a graceful elf.

Knowing his son would also be awake at this hour Elrond put his meddling to good use. With the most casual air he could muster he said:

“I’m sure my son would entertain your questions this night if you cannot wait until the sun has risen again…” He saw Thranduil stiffen upon hearing this but his expression seemed to be one of relief at having been offered the opportunity- it must have been Hell to have waited so long for some kind of answer.

“If you are sure he would be receptive even at this hour… he would be doing a great deed in easing my tortured mind. As dramatic as it sounds, I mean what I say. This has been an ordeal from the beginning, from the second I laid my eyes upon him.” The blond huffed a pained laugh as though he found his admission mortifying.

They were both stood now at the open doors to the balcony, the set up the same as Elrond’s, two chairs and a small table. Thranduil was staring up at the sky, his grey gaze set on the stars above him.

Elrond jumped when he spoke suddenly.

“I know I have set myself up to fail in pursuing this, old friend. As much as I loathe to admit it, I cannot stop thinking of him. Every time I close my eyes he is there smiling back at me with his deep brown eyes framed so perfectly by wild dark hair…. It is so easy to be drawn in by him and I can scarcely stand it.”

Oh, his hunch had been correct after all.

Thranduil spoke of Bard…

“I hope he is able to offer me insight to all things human, while books can be educational they leave a lot to be desired and the formal tone in which information is given. Well, I learn nothing from them.”

It was now or never.

Elrond beckoned for Thranduil to follow him out of the set of rooms and back out into the night, they crossed the courtyard and toward a small apartment tucked away amidst trees, only a small lit candle to chase away the shadows. The flame flickered madly as the occupant within moved to answer the door as Elrond quietly knocked.

When the door opened Thranduil felt the all the air in his lungs rush out in a quiet gasp, his eyes darted to Elrond an accusatory glare apparent, yet the brunet paid him no mind as he greeted Bard, his son, the very man that captured his heart with ease and had no idea he had done so!

“Ada, Lord Thranduil… this is a surprise. Please come in, it is so good to see you again!” Bard stepped aside to let both elves enter before closing the door behind them.

Noticing how Thranduil seemed out of sorts his smile faltered slightly.

“Is something wrong, my lord?”

The formality snapped him back to reality and he regained his composure faster than he ever had before. Thranduil offered a tight smile and Bard found it concerning that while Thranduil was there he truly looked as though he was not.

“Of all the men I have met in my lifetime, you have definitely earned the respect and right to call me Thranduil, Dragonslayer.”

Bard laughed at this but he nodded as he felt his cheeks heat up, all the while steadfastly ignoring Elrond’s amused gaze as moved to offer both elves a seat.

“I cannot stay, I’m afraid. As fascinating as I would find this…” His Ada pat Bard’s shoulder in apology before leaving the two of them alone.

For a long moment, there was no conversation between them. They had shared much together previously but now away from war and the dire consequences of it they seemed to realise that their conversation would revolve around them and not war tactics.

Thranduil sighed and rested a hand on the back of the chair he had been offered a moment ago, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet before looking to his host with an expression of exasperation.

“Your father is a wise but sneaky man,” He began, Bard remained silent but nodded in agreement. “He knew that… the human I was in love with was you that is why he brought me here.”

To his credit, Bard did not yell or screech but his eyes did widen for a fraction of a second before a relieved breath was exhaled and he gave Thranduil a soft smile.

He crossed the room toward him and Thranduil felt his heart rate leap into an anxious buzzing beat as though it vibrated, he swallowed wondering how it had been so easy that his mouth had gone dry and his hands began to lose feeling as he clenched them to ground himself.

How did this mortal man have such power over him from a mere smile?!

“It hurt, at first, knowing you were coming here to speak on a great love you’d found in battle, a love that I believed was not me. Then you surprise me and with that lousy confession and I can’t help but forgive you as though you had admitted your feelings with a grand gesture.”

“Apologies that I had no speech prepared, I was caught quite unawares as much as you were.” The confident smirk had appeared and Bard knew all was well between them, so much so that he as he leaned in to kiss the elf he was met halfway.

Perhaps he needed no advice on how to woo a mortal man after all.

Well, one particular mortal man…


	29. One More Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk if you still take prompts but what about Bard wearing Thranduil‘s clothes? In modern au it would be just cute in canon it would be hilarious because the robes probably look weird on Bard (not that Thranduil thinks that)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request a prompt via my tumblr blog
> 
> fromeroicawithlove
> 
> Thanks :)

One More Time

 

 

Honestly, he knew he should have been more prepared. 

 

The ride to Mirkwood was always a long one, and the weather had been threatening a downpour for days… yet Bard did not come ready with a change of clothes to meet the Elven king even after Sigrid told him he should. 

 

So when he arrived the king of Dale resembled less a kingly figure, and more a forlorn and bedraggled thing perched upon a horse shivering to the point his bones felt as though they rattled. 

 

Thranduil hid his smirk behind a goblet of wine in the throne room but had the grace to compose himself as he spoke. 

 

“My staff will have you dried off and redressed and only then shall the meeting begin. Please do take care of yourself Bain is far too young to be taking the throne just yet.” His words received a glare from the man before him but there was no fire in his eyes, he was far too cold for that. 

 

They had prepared a bath for him and brought out clothes from Thranduil’s wardrobe until they could make something more suitable for him in the morning. 

 

There was a good 40 minutes where Bard soaked in the hot water enjoying the scented oils that eased his aching muscles so that he no longer shivered --though the steam seemed to fog his mind and when he climbed out to dress he needed a little help. 

 

It was not until he was dressed that he realised the clothes, as they were being pinned quickly to fit, were a tad too long and very luxurious. The tunic itself was a soft dove grey silver embroidering down the front, with dark leggings and boots the match. He was then offered a robe, which at first he declined because it seemed overkill at this point but the house staff helping him insisted and so he had to accept. 

 

The robe was black, the same silver embroidery as the tunic along the edges but it felt so soft and while it was not remotely Bard’s style it was very comfortable. 

 

When he finally got a glimpse at himself in the mirror he flushed pink and shook his head. 

 

“I genuinely look ridiculous, gentleman. I cannot go out looking like this to discuss trade agreements with Lord Thranduil like this…” No one listened, though someone did utter a compliment on how he looked which Bard shrugged off with ease. 

 

“Come on, this is too much, I look like I’m about to stare into a crystal ball and try to predict the future.” Someone snickered at the joke but he couldn’t pinpoint who as there were too many of them running around trying to dress him. 

 

Eventually, he was allowed to leave them,  but not before he was offered a simple silver circlet that fit perfectly upon his head letting his now tamed curls frame his face leaving him with the look of simple regality without trying too hard. 

 

Thranduil was on his feet as soon as Bard entered the throne room, he had the decency to keep his face a neutral as possible but Bard could see the beginning of a smirk and it made his insides squirm with embarrassment. 

 

“There was no talking them out of it, I am sorry, I must look like a travesty wearing your old clothes.” There was a beat of silence as Thranduil handed him a goblet of wine that he graciously accepted without hesitation, then the king gave him the once over his eyes bright with interest as he did so. 

 

“Please, if you need to laugh, get it over with. I feel ridiculous as it is!” 

 

“Forgive me, Lord Bard, I am struck with just how well it suits you. You leave me quite envious of how it fits your form.” There was a purr in his tone and Bard ignored it by taking a sip of the very strong wine he had been given, there was no time to try and analyze what that sound meant and to be honest he didn’t want to seem too hopeful. 

 

The blond had made such suggestive comments before but Bard found that after a glass or two of the same wine he was much worse… so Thranduil was likely nicely buzzed he’d retract his comments or apologise later… maybe. 

 

“Are you sure I don’t look like a child playing dress up?” Bard joked as they both headed for Thranduil’s study, he saw Thranduil shake his head but he said nothing more until they were safely ensconced in a more private setting. 

 

“I’m just going to…” Bard slid the robe off and Thranduil looked near beside himself with surprise, he searched for the wine decanter and poured himself a larger drink which he drank down near immediately. 

 

Divesting himself of the robe Bard felt a little less ridiculous and when he finally turned his attention to Thranduil he offered a smile but the elf seemed, somewhat, distracted by something else. 

 

“It does fit you rather well… I suppose you should keep it, you know, you do need something nice to wear when you visit. I’ve not worn it for such a long time, and I find it suits you perfectly.” 

 

“Ah… well… if you think so, if you’re sure it looks that good, I feel like a fool in it.” 

 

“Anyone who doesn’t feel something seeing you in it is a fool.” 

 

With that Bard sat down and cleared his throat signalling the start of their meeting, the only problem he had now was that he had a rather flirty elven king on his hands.

 

The meeting for trade agreements was rescheduled for a later date.


	30. The Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elbarduil, where Elrond tries to break up with them because he doesn't want to lose anyone else and Bard, is super mad but Thranduil is surprisingly calm because he knows what Elrond's been through?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can request a prompt over on my tumblr blog: 
> 
> fromeroicawithlove 
> 
> Thanks :)

The Middle 

 

To say that Elrond had been behaving oddly would be an understatement.

Especially recently. 

With his refusal to spend time with Bard and Thranduil, always finding excuses regarding appointments and the like. Managing to be vague on the details without it seeming like an outright lie what he was doing… which was avoiding his partners. 

Both Bard and Thranduil had noticed, of course, it wasn’t hard to notice the sudden absence of a loved one. Waking up to find only the two of them in bed of a morning was jarring at first because of the space and then more so due to the fact Elrond was missing the majority of the time. 

As persistent as they were with raising that something was wrong the elf lord refused to acknowledge that there was a problem between them at all. 

It was hard to broach the subject often, neither Bard nor Thranduil wished for the distance between them and Elrond to grow, and the constant querying from them both would only drive them further apart. 

Thranduil knew something had to be done when he found Bard pacing in his study, stacks of paperwork lay forgotten and the inkwell still corked and very likely unused. The king of Dale did not fare well and his hair was a tangled mess clearly from running his hands through it in frustration.

“Do not torture yourself so, meleth.” The pacing stopped as Thranduil spoke, “He will come to us and he will speak when he feels ready. We cannot do anything but wait.” While his words were confident he could not truly find hope in them, they were more to soothe the man before him who seemed sp wracked with worry. 

“I just… don’t understand, Thran. I thought everything was ok. I believed that if there was any sort of problem we could talk about it but he will not talk about it. Doesn’t he realise he is acting out of character to the both of us?!” The desperation in Bard’s voice, the way it cracked at the end it hurt Thranduil to hear and he crossed the room to envelop the man in a tight embrace.

That night Elrond joined them for dinner for the first time in weeks, the air around them all was tense and Bard picked at his food waiting for someone to say something. He knew he couldn’t be the first to engage… he was too confused and could not trust himself to remain diplomatic if he opened his mouth. 

Glancing to his left Bard watched as Thranduil poured himself a drink and without missing a beat he filled Bard’s goblet with the same strong wine the blond adored, all the while he gifted Bard with a soft look as though trying to convey a sense of calm. 

Finally, after much awkward silence, Elrond cleared his throat and both men broke their gaze and turned their attention to the source of their turmoil. 

“I… will speak as delicately as I am able on this subject. Know that I do adore you both and shall always do so.” He straightens his back and squares his shoulders as though needing to project an air of finality to his words.

His gaze is indifferent as he continued addressing them both. 

“However, I believe now is the time to express regret, I am truly sorry but I have come to understand our time together must come to an end.” Both Thranduil and Bard blink back at Elrond not entirely sure what this meant, their blank expressions only serve to drive home the fact he had not explained himself well enough. 

“I must break away from the both of you. Our three shall become a two and I will bow out." 

Bard’s fork clattered loudly as he dropped it onto the tabletop, his food had long been forgotten… Thranduil could see how he fought to contain himself how hard it was for him to form words that would convey his pain without hurting someone he loved. 

“Care to tell us why you decided this without coming to us and discussing it first?” Thranduil asked calmly, his whole demeanour was that of a man that saw the situation from the outside looking in, a man that did not assume he knew the thoughts and feelings of the elf sat across from him. 

At his side, Bard floundered still and he looked helplessly between Thranduil and Elrond as though expecting some of this to make some kind of sense to him.

“I cannot continue this relationship knowing that one day,” Elrond paused as his attention moved to Bard and the indifferent look in his eyes softens. 

That is when Thranduil understood.       

He understood completely because he had agonised over the same thing countless nights. 

“Are you saying I’m the problem?” The words were choked out and Bard got up from his seat leaving the room quickly, it was clear he could no longer compose himself and rather than take it out on the both of them he removed himself from the situation. 

The two elves were left alone now, and Thranduil could only sigh as he moved to lift his goblet of wine to his lips, eyes closed as he drank deeply. This had been dealt with entirely the wrong way and now there was damage done, perhaps to the point that it could not be fixed and trust could not be regained. 

When Thranduil opened his eyes again Elrond looked forlorn and so very tired, he hadn’t moved his gaze from the spot where Bard had been sat not moments ago- his hands were still clasped together and rested on the tabletop. 

“One day we will see him die. Thranduil, I have lost so much, and I know you are aware of that feeling all too well. To have a part of your soul torn from you each time someone you love dies. Isn’t there only so much we can take?” 

“Do you mean to say that,” Thranduil chose his next words carefully, “You wish to break away to save yourself further pain?” The blond stood and moved around the table to Elrond’s side, he poured the elf a drink from the carafe and urged him to take the goblet in his hands. 

“Is this not the easiest way to do this, to have him hate me to the point that he does not wish to see my face again?” 

“It is a coward’s way out.” The response was almost instant and so cold the room could have iced over, but no apology came after and Elrond suspected there wouldn’t be one later either. 

“Do you worry that the loss could finish you off?” Thranduil’s voice no longer cold but his words were now coloured with faint amusement, he took a seat next to his love and wound an arm around him to pull him into a light embrace they stayed like that for sometime before either of them spoke again. 

“I did not approach this in the right way, let us not delay in finding Bard. I can’t leave him feeling as though my heart is heavy because of him.”

“Ah, but it is, meleth. Do not lie to him and do not try to twist the truth. Bard is a clever man, you know this, he will only resent you for the lies. We have always been open and honest with him as he has with us. 

Why let that change now?

Are you afraid that he will melt your heart with his beautiful soulful brown eyes, and that all the resolve you built up over the weeks shall crumble like an ancient ruin when he convinces you to remain at our side?” 

“Yes! Yes, Thranduil that is the problem. I have to distance myself from him, you know this!” The distraught tone of voice meant his thought process had taken a turn for the worst. Elrond truly believed that everything would be better and he would save himself from heartache by leaving Bard so that when he died he would not lose another piece of himself.    

“If you truly wish to leave us then let us talk with Bard, you must explain yourself fully to him and then you can make that choice but do not assume Bard will just accept this. You and I both know he is a fighter, he loves passionately and fights just the same, you think yourself prepared but you are not.

I… do not wish for you to leave us. 

Your indecision is based on the life span of a mortal man but there are three of us in this relationship and you need to think of everyone involved.” This was about all of them, this involved all three of them and so far Thranduil had been the one soothing and had allowed his feelings to be neglected. He did not resent Elrond or Bard, they were both experiencing pain and someone needed to be strong for both of them even if for a short while. 

“I do not make this decision lightly, Thranduil. I know the outcome of my actions, can you truthfully say that you have not thought of the very same thing as I?” Elrond pinned his gaze on Thranduil who returned the look calmly he shook his head, truthfully he had not- he had lain awake, with Bard sleeping soundly at his side, wondering how he would survive losing the man he loved but he had never considered leaving him to spare himself pain.

“Ultimately, you spare yourself nothing, meleth. Your thoughts will always be drawn to him and his life, you will consider how he spends his time without you there. As each year passes you will look for news of him and still you will feel the hurt inside you from leaving him. 

Do you think that the news of his death coming from a faceless herald will save you from heartache?” He felt breathless in his desperation to convince his love that throwing all of this away was fruitless and would not relieve him of his worries. 

“We have spoken enough on this alone, it is time we included Bard.” Thranduil did not wait for Elrond to respond as he stood, however, he did take time to drain his goblet before heading for the door. He was not surprised to see Elrond following close behind and when he felt the elf’s hand around his wrist he stopped.

“I know this hurts you too, and it leaves you in a position wherein you will have to decide what you want too. It is unfair of me to force you into that kind of situation.”

“I was well aware of any implications that may occur when we entered into this relationship.” He wanted to be detached and to rise above the panic that threatened to consume him. “This scares me, Elrond. Is it selfish to want all of this to go away and  return to a time we were all happy?” Of course, he knew it was but Elrond was kind enough not to answer him instead he led Thranduil out of the dining hall and into the brightly lit corridor. 

When they found Bard he was sat on an intricately carved bench under a tree, his hands were clasped together and his head was bowed as though sat in prayer. Someone had left a small lit lamp on one side of the bench giving light as the evening set in and stars dotted the skies above him. 

He refused to look at both of them as they approached and Elrond stopped metres away from Bard’s resting spot as though discouraged by the sight of him, Thranduil urged him on by tugging gently at the sleeve of the brunet’s robe.

“I didn’t think about how hard it would be for you to see me grow old,” Both elves look to Bard as he spoke, his voice nothing but a whisper but they had heard it clear as day in the silent night. “I suppose it is a testament to how much you must love me to want to distance yourself… to want to protect yourself from the inevitable.” When he managed to muster up the courage to look at them, his eyes were ringed in red and shone with unshed tears that would surely fall before the night’s end. 

“We all knew this would not be the easiest relationship to maintain. Distance alone made it difficult, and of course, this would cross our minds, that you are human. It is hard to forget that, it is why we strive to spend so much time with you.

We travel to Dale as often as we can to be with you and have you here in Rivendell and Mirkwood for this reason.” Thranduil was now sat at Bard’s side coaxing Bard’s clasped hands apart, he took a now free hand and gave it a squeeze hoping the warmth of him would convey more than his words could. 

“But you are not the one that is having this problem.” Bard whips his head round to look at Elrond who took a step back fearful of his love’s expression, though he knew under the blazing anger it was hurt and sadness, and for that, he would forgive any anger directed his way. 

“Yes, I am aware, but while it hurts you please try to understand why he is doing this. You know his story, you know who and what he has lost.” 

There was a grumble from Bard that sounded as though he was backing down, and with that Elrond moved forward to embrace the King of Dale his forehead lightly resting against the others. This wasn’t the end of this conversation but they had met one another in the middle and now they could work to understand what needed to be said and what might happen.

There was no guarantee that everything would work out- Elrond may still decide he cannot bear the thought of watching Bard age, and Bard might resent him for that… Regardless of what happened Thranduil would remain because while dark clouds had gathered around them he had weathered worse storms and for less than love.


	31. Gears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> modern au thranduil is gay and cant drive also he cant do math,,,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to request a prompt head to my tumblr:
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> fromeroicawithlove 
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> Thanks
> 
> :)

Gears

 

Tires screech followed by a crunch of metal colliding with metal.

 

A beat of silence before Bard cursed out loud from inside his car.

 

He'd been rear-ended and it sounded pretty bad, felt it too from the whiplash he was now suffering from being shoved forward by the impact.

 

Closing his eyes for a moment, Bard took a deep breath before removing his seat belt and climbing out of the car to speak with the other motorist.

 

Time slowed down for a moment as the most beautiful tall blond creature stepped out of their silver BMW and headed towards Bard looking almost sheepish at the damage to the rear bumper and tail lights.

 

_ Don't forgive him just because he's hot! Bard, don't forgive him just because he's hot. Just… don't do it. Boy, don't do it!  _ His brain seemed to have sense but the brunet couldn't trust his mouth so remained silent as the blond approached still looking entirely horrified that he had caused such an incident.

 

"I'm so sorry…" The blond began, he was well-spoken and seemed genuine in his apology, though Bard wasn't sure he was taking in anything he said.

 

Clearing his throat Bard looked between his car and the others and sighed as though reluctant to say what he was going to propose to the other.

 

"I wasn't paying attention at all, and yes, I am well aware that I'm obviously a bad driver for that sole reason, but if you'd be so kind as to hear me out on this," He flipped his long blond hair over his shoulder as he spoke and Bard felt any hope for the situation slowly deflate and dissolve, he was just too in awe of the creature stood before him in a form-fitting grey suit and lavender shirt.... "Let's forget insurance companies and let me pay you for the damage outside of all that legal stuff, yes?"

 

Was he one of those millionaires that didn't seem bothered by any bill under 10,000?!

 

It was then that Bard realised the blond probably didn't have insurance. Out of frustration he rubbed at his brow his eyes closed hoping some semblance of sense could be gleaned from the man before him.

 

Though, really keeping the insurance companies out of this wasn't a bad idea. It could work out assuming this man gave him legitimate contact details.

 

"My name is Thranduil by the way. Let me… give you my number." He fumbled in his jacket pocket for something before eventually pulling out a phone, Bard followed suit and did the same, they exchanged contact info and Bard confirmed that once he had a price for the repairs he would call or text the blond.

 

He received a bright smile at this before Thranduil demurely said, "You know, if we hadn't met in such embarrassing circumstances I would have asked you out for a drink."

 

For a split second Bard was catapulted into a state of shock and he very nearly suggested they should do so anyway but he remembered he was meant to be picking the kids up from his ex-wife's apartment and all his sense and logic came flooding back.

 

_ You can't forgive him because he's hot, Bard! This is your brain speaking and you should really REALLY listen. _

 

That was the end of that and Bard dismissed what Thranduil had said with an uneasy laugh before they parted ways.

 

When he finally made it to Mari's apartment he had to take a seat and explain what happened, and he was completely honest about it all. Even when he considered letting the handsome stranger take him out.

 

"Oh wow, you've had quite the afternoon then. Wish hot guys would crash into the back of me… wait… no, but still as Sigrid would say 'Big Mood'.

 

No idea if I'm even using that right." She dismissed her own words by giving a lacklustre flourish of her free hand, the other holding a take out coffee cup.

 

"He sounds like your type Bard, ya know, hot... and it wouldn't kill you to get out there and date even if he IS a dangerous driver. No one is perfect." Mari shrugged before taking a sip of her coffee. She seemed more understanding of the situation than he but it wasn't like her car had been banged up.

 

"Yeah… probably not gonna happen. He likely wanted to try and get out of paying for my car. Uh... where are the kids?"

 

"Not everyone is a skeevy loser trying to rob you, Bard. Kids are still at their swimming class, Jack will be home with them soon." Jack was Mari's husband, they met in Seattle while Mari was away on business, he was an all-round great guy and loved the kids. Bard had no problems with him. They’d shared a few beers and sometimes they talked sports, though Bard generally didn't have much to say on college football because they were in England and Jack hadn't realised that most people didn't care about American sports all that much.

 

"I suppose I'll hang around until they're back then. Oh… actually, I'll take the car to the garage and see if I can get a quote on how much the repairs will be."

 

Mari waved him off and he left without another word.

 

All in all the repairs wouldn't cost all that much. The bumper was heavily scratched and dented but some buffing and a paint job would fix that and the lights were easily replaced. It wouldn't be too expensive and Bard wondered if he should just forget about asking Thranduil to pay for it.

Instantly his brain whirred into gear.

 

_ Don't forgive him because he's hot!!!! He did this so he should pay! Don't let the hot man win! _

Pulling out his phone Bard composed a text explaining the price of the repairs and that he'd be happy if he just gave him 60% of the bill.

 

Right away he received a reply.

 

[ **Guy That Wrecked My Car** ] No problem. But what is 60% of £300?

 

[ **Guy That Wrecked My Car** ] It's ok I'll Google it or something.

 

_ He's a dumbass that can't drive and can't do math… and, dammit, you think he's hot, Bard. Resist asking him out. RESIST. _

 

[ **Guy That Wrecked My Car** ] Maths is so hard. I'm a busy man I don't have time to do this. Can't I just pay the whole £300 and you can buy me a drink or something and we can call it even?

 

For awhile Bard just blinked down at his phone, this man was clearly adamant in trying to take him out. Still, he knew he had to refuse…

 

Didn't he?

 

The phone began to ring and in his surprise Bard almost dropped the device, regaining his grip on it he answered the phone to hear the smooth voice of Thranduil floating through the speaker.

 

"Didn't you receive my message?"

"Yeah, sure did."

 

"Well?"

 

"Just pay me £180 and we're fine."

 

"What an odd figure to pull out of thin air." Came the annoyed response, Bard nearly hung up.

 

"Ah, sure, don't know why I even said that." Bard's reply drier than the desert but it went right over Thranduil's head who just huffed again down the phone.

 

"Well, let's meet up and I'll pay you. I assume cash is alright?"

 

Man, he sounded like a damn snob on the phone, much less apologetic than earlier and not as peppy as he was in his texts.

 

Something didn't seem right but Bard didn't really know this man well enough to confirm why so he shrugged it off and agreed on a time and gave him the address of the garage before disconnecting the call.

 

Weird guy…

 

When Thranduil showed up he was in an entirely different car than the one involved in the crash, and it took Bard a moment to realise, that in his haste to fix his own car, he hadn’t checked if the blond was ok or if his car had survived.

 

As he was approached by the beauty it was Bard’s turn to offer a slightly apologetic smile in greeting but it only caused the blond’s brows to knit together in confusion at the sudden tender gesture.

 

“I didn’t get to ask if you were alright earlier, you might have crashed into me but you still could have been injured on impact… I’m sorry that I didn’t check you or your car.” There was silence between them and for a second Bard believed that his statement may have been completely ignored until a dark pink blush bloomed over Thranduil’s cheeks and he looked away for a moment mumbling that he was fine and there was nothing to worry about.

 

“See, you say that but you’re in a different car and maybe you’re good at hiding your pain. I would feel better if you absolutely told me the truth. Are you ok?” He tried to offer what he believed to be a gentle smile as Thranduil looked back to him.

 

“My car was scratched but it remains in one piece and only requires paint to fix it. I am in good health, nothing hurt but my pride… I suppose.”

 

“Can’t handle crashing into someone and having to deal with it like an adult?” Bard joked he had hoped to coax a smile out of the blond but so far he remained stoic and he wondered if Thranduil had gotten into some trouble for the crash or was just having a really bad day that continued after their incident.

 

Either way, it didn’t sit well with Bard and he had no idea why.

 

It shouldn’t really matter to him if Thranduil was in good spirits or not, he was only really there to pay for the damage he had caused by being reckless while driving, whatever he had been doing to cause him to crash into a parked car… it must have been bloody well interesting.

 

“Strangely, not the reason for my bruised ego, I assure you.”

 

“It really should be why you’re so embarrassed, to be honest,” Bard muttered quietly as he accepted the cash and scowled when he counted out £300 rather than the agreed 60%- though, truthfully, Thranduil had not agreed to anything but to pay him.

 

“Do you really not know what 60% of £300 is?” He was counting the bills as he spoke but when he looked up he saw a faint blush creeping over the blond’s pale skin again and he guessed that maths really wasn’t this man’s strong point.

 

“Calculators were invented for a reason, you know.” Was all Thranduil said and Bard bit back a chuckle though he couldn’t quite hide his smile. Regardless of the way he spoke this man was quite adorable and he had to admit to his credit Thranduil did show up and pay the full amount, most people would have given fake details.

 

“You really don’t have to pay the full thing.”

 

“Let me do this, it’s bad enough you won’t let me take you out!” The blond fumed almost pouting like a petulant child over the fact he couldn’t persuade Bard to go out for a drink.

 

In his defence, he barely knew the guy but then again, getting a drink with him would mean talking and he would get to know him if they met up again. Did- did Thranduil was to take him out on a date that badly?

 

It wasn’t like Bard hadn’t been struggling to resist asking him out, he had been rendered speechless the second he saw him and even though they had spent a measly 15 minutes together in their entire lives… he did find him sweet.

 

Perhaps there would be no harm in grabbing coffee with him or a drink maybe even dinner?

 

Offering Thranduil a lopsided grin he threw his hands up as a gesture of ‘ _ what the hell! _ ’.

 

“Sure, let’s go out sometime. Coffee, dinner, whatever you want. You have my number let’s talk soon.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed back to the garage leaving a dazed Thranduil stood by his car brimming with excitement.

 

Mari was probably right.

 

Not everyone is a skeevy loser trying to rob you.

 

Sometimes they’re beautiful creatures who can’t drive and can’t do math who want to date you…


End file.
